Bet My Heathen Soul
by Jashin-chan
Summary: /There was no one he hated more... and yet he felt so empty./ It all starts with a bet, for the sake of Kakuzu's greed. Soon enough, Kakuzu and Hidan's synchronizing insanities need solace in whatever they can find. KakuHidan violence, language, lemon
1. Chapter 1

Authoress' Note: Rewriting the first few chapters. Not only did they have quite a few typos, they seemed oddly... simplistic, compared to the later chapters! ^^; And after all, this IS my baby!

Alright, here we go~ *takes a deep breath*

Chapter 1

It was not possible for Hidan to hate anyone as much as he hated Kakuzu. Of this, he was entirely sure. After all, there couldn't have been anyone as selfish, as tainted, as dark, as Jashin-damn-his-soul fucking annoying as the ex-Takigakure shinobi. Perhaps the only ones that could compare were the pacifists of Yugakure; and that was only because their weakness and lack of action had made Hidan feel restless, anxious. This, of course, led to the only perk of working with Kakuzu: he could kill. Anyone was free-game, they said. Anyone but his partner, or the Jinchuuriki. And of course, there were no objections to beating the living shit out of either of them - or himself.

And yet, at the end of the day, there was little satisfaction. No explanation was made apparent to Hidan. He could not figure it out - why he felt this way, like there just wasn't enough. There was a feeling, like Hidan needed more... or something different entirely...

Whichever one it was...?

Well, there was no way to know that...

* * *

A torn landscape, broken and frayed, made it more than obvious that a battle had taken place. Yet it was the blood that showed who won. Although, perhaps a clearer sign was the masked and hooded man standing in the middle of it all, with a disapproving look in his eyes...

"I told you not to go crazy on this one, Hidan... they won't even recognize him now..."

Kakuzu was annoyed, that much was obvious. His complaints were receiving no recognition, forgetting respect, as Hidan laid on the ground, impaled, blood pooling beneath him. His off-shade pinkish eyes snapped open, glaring up at the much older man. He himself did not seem as annoyed - only slightly bothered. He actually felt rather relaxed at the moment, despite the awkward position his body was in.

"You know, when you tell me that, it just makes me wanna go ufurther/u." he informed, matter-of-factly. "I mean, fuck, what was I supposed to do? Hold back? Jashin-sama would have never forgiven such a lack of devotion."

A scoff came from Kakuzu as he looked away from Hidan, shaking his head, wanting to hear no more of the bigoted, religious prattle. He examined the body of their bounty carefully, looking for some miniscule detail that could prove the dead man's identity. Hidan's scythe, however, had done far too much damage, slicing almost every feature into ribbons of flesh and muscle, shaved bone particles visible in some raised sections along the cheekbone, below the eyes. Kakuzu could even clearly see the jaw bone running to the chin through a shaved, disconnected part of their profile. Hopeless.

"You're going to pay back somehow for this one." Steadily, his voice was growing into an enraged growl as he dwelled on this setback. "This is a huge reward you're costing me."

"Hey, listen, I don't give a shit about your money!" Hidan snarled, snapping his head to follow the miser. Kakuzu's complaints were beginning to grate at his ears, screwing up his concentration. "Will you just shut the hell up and let me finish this?!"

Regular routine; regular Kakuzu and Hidan. Hidan let out a yelp as Kakuzu grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him up. A wet, slippery, sucking noise hit Hidan's ears, creating less of an impact and sensation than the disturbance that had made it, the forced change of position inside of him. He shuddered as the object he was impaled upon slid, cool and slick against his steadily beating heart. He had little chance to relish in the feel and the pain of it, however, as tendrils of thread snaked from Kakuzu, stroking and dancing along Hidan's throat. Another shudder, less pleasant this time. Hidan's skin was incredibly sensitive, finely tuned through training so that he could fully enjoy every sensation of pain. The snaking thread tickled in a way that gripped that twitching muscle in his chest. A mental consideration of 'huh' went through Hidan's head for a second in confusion, before he pushed the whole thing aside. He glared up at Kakuzu, fully aware of the increasingly sharper sensations as the tips of the tendrils raked at his skin, threatening to pierce it. "Go ahead." he said daringly. "You'd just have to put me back together afterwards."

Cold stares were the only form of conversation between the two after that. Hidan began to finally relax, feeling the threat had passed. It was only then that the threads abruptly changed motive, sewing into his lips. A muffled grunt was extracted from the Jashinist as Kakuzu dropped him back down onto the pike, the hard material rubbing against Hidan again internally, making him jolt. Acting as though nothing had happened, ignoring Hidan's death glares, Kakuzu turned back to his bounty. Examining the mauled face, he muttered to himself inquisitively, finding it to be the only stimulating conversation.

"If I sewed it back together, maybe..." he murmured to himself. Hidan's restrained growls, like Kakuzu's previous annoyance, fell on a deaf audience. Kakuzu, of course, currently wanted it no other way.

* * *

The walk back to the base was an uncharacteristically quiet one. Kakuzu took the chance to enjoy it before it was inevitably interrupted; which of course, would happen any minute now. Said event was soon announced by the sound of Hidan's scythe slicing through flesh - flesh that was obviously on Hidan's person. And that was finally exaggerated upon by the following comment grumbled incoherently by Hidan:

"Rr, FRUCK..."

Kakuzu looked back to his partner from the corner of his eye, bored. They had started moving again a few hours ago, and of course, Kakuzu had failed to remove the stitches. And as Hidan attempted to do it himself, it eventually led to Kakuzu's endless amusement.

The only tool Hidan had on hand was his scythe, and thus was the tool of choice for his solution. Kakuzu had foreseen disaster from that moment, considering how i_BIG_/i the damn thing was. The size, of course, made it hard to control in such a situation. He had slipped, instead, cutting a large slit into the flesh wall of his cheek that kept his jaw from hanging sloppily. This did allow him speech, though it was limited.

"Kakruzu! Firx th' dram thirng err-ready!"

Feigning ignorance, Kakuzu looked away, giving little care to Hidan's plight. As far as he was concerned, the silver-haired Jashinist was finally receiving his just desserts. Of course, though, it became hard to ignore the man innocently when he became so worked up that he began emitting this odd, stifled, snorting noise. Kakuzu turned quickly, in rage. "Breathe through your NOSE, idiot, before you suffocate!" he hissed, as Hidan choked on his own blood and saliva. "Even better, why don't you just shut up?"

"Fruck 'oo!" Hidan growled, deciding internally to stop trying to cut the stitches off. At this rate, he figured bitterly, Kakuzu would just have to give him more, just to keep his jaw on. Blood, hot and sticky, was dripping down the side of Hidan's neck, intermixed with saliva. Kakuzu gave him a look of disgust, but made no attempt to fix anything. That, he decided, was not the current pressing dilemma, despite what Hidan may think of the inconvenience. Adjusting the bounty's corpse over his shoulder, Kakuzu kept on walking ahead. Hidan strode to keep up with him, but did not speak another word, knowing enough to know that it would have been a useless attempt. Once he caught up, he merely stayed alongside the man, wiping the blood from his neck. Kakuzu did not give him another look – not that he expected him to. That was only to be expected. Still, though…

Hidan did not mind Kakuzu's lack of speech (that much), that wasn't the problem. Yet as they continued, he was annoyed, nonetheless. His reason for annoyance was not that specific, seeing as he did not miss the insults, for he was entirely sick of these. Rather, he was annoyed about the whole entire fact that he was being ignored so blatantly, like he did not even exist. That was oddly one of his biggest peeves. Pride was hurt in the same way that an enemy's is, if you refuse battle. It was a blunt form of non-recognition, which, in Hidan's mind, was a most unbearable thing to go through. He did not ever want to lose his existence, of all things. No, that would be too much.

* * *

By the time the two had gotten back to the Akatsuki base, the day had left almost entirely, leaving everything dark and cold. Despite his immortality, Hidan was indeed tired, fatigued both from the battle, and from walking for so long. And still, Kakuzu had not undone the stitches.

He wanted these damn things out. Still, lacking in weapons, at this point, Hidan resorted to using his own hands. His fingers pulled at the stitches, first experimentally, then yanking roughly. His lips were also pulled forward harshly, the skin threatening to rip before the stitches ever allowed themselves to be severed. A sick, wet, sucking sound made his attempts obvious as Kakuzu heard them. Kakuzu glared back at him, at the slit cheek that had stopped bleeding a few miles back. Though the skin was still severed, the wound was closing. That didn't, of course, stop the situation from being funny as hell.

"You know, I'm not going to take those off until after the report." he told Hidan, who glowered ferociously, unable to respond without looking like a fool. His tongue lapped up saliva that he then swallowed down forcefully, trying not to look like a mentally-challenged, drooling moron. As they approached the meeting room, however, Hidan became a bit more anxious.

"Hay're, Kakruzu…"

A vague glance backward and a grunt showed that Kakuzu was listening, while on the inside he was containing laughter. Hidan's loose cheek flapped comically whenever he tried to speak. It gave Kakuzu a sense of accomplishment, though he had not directly done the damage. Hidan continued nervously, hiding it with casualty.

"Yer-oh, yer shud perabry firxis bifur ree tark ter Reader-sama…"

"Keep your mouth shut and things should be fine." Was all that Kakuzu had to say, after the time wasted to listen to what Hidan had to say. Hidan glared at him, growling. Quickly looking away, he brushed away the spittle that had leaked out when he had spoken. His following silence was almost deafening, it seemed, in comparison to his usual ranting.

He was still tired. Nodding off, eyes sliding closed, he kept himself awake by continuing to yank at his stitches. His mouth was starting to go dry, he realized, with a bitter annoyance. He licked the roof of his mouth in an attempt to ease the discomfort. He'd be drinking like a fish when all this was finally fixed. And by Jashin's name, he was going to kill Kakuzu next chance that he got.

Walking into the room, the pink irises of Hidan's eyes widened, adjusting to the pitch-black darkness. After a few blank moments, the shaky, transparent image of Pain appeared, only the ripple-patterned eyes fully visible on the shadowy form of the projection. Hidan stood to the back of the room, trying to get away with saying absolutely nothing. He was saved momentarily from that at least as Kakuzu spoke up, going immediately into the report.

"We only received half of the estimated pay." he said first, bitterness evident in every syllable. "They could barely recognize the bounty. Hidan had managed to mutilate the face pretty badly, left him in terrible shape. They weren't going to pay full price, they said, for such shoddy work."

Hidan bit back a spiteful response, continuing to stand there quietly. He knew this was the exact reason Kakuzu had not removed the stitches. Pain was staring critically at the Jashinist, and Hidan could only hope that the stitches were not as visible in the nearly-pitch black. The scythe was gripped tightly in his fist, shaking with the urge to stab Kakuzu in the back. He knew that at this position, he could hit at least two of his hearts. His anger only grew as Kakuzu continued the report, berating Hidan every chance he had. The raven-haired man seemed to go on for hours before Pain spoke up.

"Hidan… you're being uncharacteristically silent today…"

Hidan gave a grunt, still refusing to speak. He would have remained as such if he hadn't heard the scornful chuckle from Kakuzu. At that point, he snapped, finally. "Shurt th' fruck up, Kakruzu!" he snarled, ignoring the sneaking feeling that Pain was smirking at him, mocking him. Paranoia, he tried to assure himself. Just because he and Pain hated each other in general, as Pain was a heathen, a false God. And Hidan, in Pain's opinion, was an idiot. But still. How could that make Hidan know for sure that he was mocking him? He couldn't even see his Leader's face. Paranoia, he repeated to himself, gritting his teeth. Pain spoke again, voice stern per usual, biting. Sarcastic, Hidan thought, with a sense of outrage.

"I'm assuming the bounty had nothing to do with your current state." the man stated, eyes shifting back to look at Kakuzu for an explanation. Another one of his smug laughs came from the man's throat before he continued.

"I was trying to shut him up. It worked fairly well, until he managed to cut his mouth open. Idiot managed to botch that as well…"

A feeling of frustration was welling up inside of Hidan at Kakuzu's words, at the way he talked like Hidan was not even there. He wanted so bad to retort, to scream at him. But still, he had no way to do so. Damn it, how long was Kakuzu going to keep these stitches on? Hidan tugged at them again, giving himself something to do.

Oh, he knew Pain was laughing. He just knew, SOMEHOW…

In a voice like he was scolding a small child, Pain spoke again to Kakuzu. "As frustrating as your partner may be, Kakuzu, please refrain from taking such restrictive actions next time." There was no care for the seriousness of the situation, no concern. Only a patiently piercing voice. Biting, biting, always biting like a cold winter frost. And Kakuzu's voice, cold, deep, like a frozen-over Earth. All Kakuzu had to say now was, "I like it better this way."

By Jashin's name, Hidan hated these bastards.

His patience thinned to nothing, Hidan was no longer able to stand being in the company of either of the two. He left the room, not even giving the courtesy of dismissing himself, nor of waiting for his partner. He was striding down the hallway towards his room, towards the comforting presence of personal space. Already, he could feel the violent insanity fading, waning away that need to kill, to hurt. But the frustration in him was building, a strange pressure in his chest threatening to come out, and he felt sickened by himself for it.

What upset him most about Kakuzu was not how much the man hated him, not how much he tortured him, not any of that. He only dwelt on those blatant acts of ignorance. Because the only thing worse than a life lacking in death and destruction was a life with no standing existence.

* * *

"To return to the problem at hand, Kakuzu, this is getting tiresome. I had assigned Hidan as your partner in the hopes that you two would work as a compatible pair." Pain was ignoring the fact that Hidan had left so abruptly. It rather seemed to Kakuzu that he had been waiting for it, for the chance to speak to Kakuzu alone. Allowing things to go where they may, Kakuzu sighed before replying.

"The unfortunate thing being that there was a flaw in your logic." Kakuzu pointed out, bemused. "Just as he loses it when I tell him to hold back, the fact that I can't kill him only creates more stress."

"Then aim that at your bounties, rather than your partner. This type of hostility within my organization is only asking for hassle and inner turmoil." The way he spoke, it was hard to tell if he was angry or not. For all Kakuzu could tell, he could have actually been pleased. Not that Kakuzu particularly cared. He knew that as long as Pain was treated with respect, there was nothing to worry about. Well, there hadn't been thus far, at least…

"What am I supposed to do about that?" The question came in a low growl from Kakuzu. The very idea of having to restrain himself around Hidan made Kakuzu twitch with impatience and bloodlust. But Pain would not respond immediately to his question. He only watched quietly, no sound except the flickering crackle of the projection. It was the sound of quiet consideration. When at last the elusive man spoke again, his words were not at all what Kakuzu had been expecting.

"I'm going to make a deal with you; a bet."

He took a double-take at first before replying. "A bet?" repeated Kakuzu, raising an eyebrow. ""Why this, all of a sudden now? How does a bet have anything to do with what we are talking about?"

"It has everything to do with it, Kakuzu." Pain replied patiently. The way he was eyeing Kakuzu made the man feel uncomfortable. Like he was building something larger in his mind, something more than a simple bet. "What… what kind of stakes are we talking about here?" Kakuzu asked him hesitantly, trying not to sound too interested yet. "What terms?"

"The stakes are simple enough; money." Ah. Now Kakuzu understood that look that Pain as giving him. He knew what effect that one sentence would have. He knew it; he had already reeled the man in. Kakuzu was practically licking his lips with anticipation, but dared not to say yes, not yet. He was a business man; he knew the drill by now. It may have been hard to look disinterested, but Kakuzu pulled it, speaking slowly, with great caution. "How much, exactly?"

From there, they exchanged words quickly, their conversation becoming a complicated waltz. "It all depends, Kakuzu." Pain said, backing out discreetly. Kakuzu's eyes narrowed.

"On what?"

"On how well you do."

"Meaning what, exactly?

"It will become clear when it begins."

Kakuzu was beginning to snap. Time was money, and the amount of time this whole thing wasted had Kakuzu becoming impatient. He hated this beat-around-the-bush style of negotiations. Pain, on the other hand, seemed to be fully enjoying it. Pain did not laugh necessarily, oh no. He never showed his feel of satisfaction; he was an emotionless God. But his eyes said it all, the rippled pattern seeming to shine sinisterly. Kakuzu held his tolerance, simmering silently.

"Just tell me the terms, Pain." He growled, abandoning any respectful title. At the moment, it did not seem as though Pain cared. He did not need Kakuzu's respect at this moment. This reaction was enough to compensate for it.

"I want to see how long you can last." He said, still vague, only for a moment longer. "How much you can take. How long you can take until the both of you break."

"'Both of us'?"

"You and Hidan."

A silent tension built between the two. Kakuzu was both speechless and angry beyond belief, reaching beyond rationality. The way Pain spoke insinuated cooperation with the Jashinist, and Kakuzu would never stand for that. He was still not even sure of the full terms, and already the idea had become upsetting to him. There had to be some kind of joke to it.

"What exactly is it you wanted us to do?" There was rage in both his eyes and his voice. Pain heaved a sigh, sounding weary, though Kakuzu still got the feeling that he received full enjoyment from this. Bastard… if it were either allowed or possible, Kakuzu would have torn him apart. But as someone who had fought so long for immortality, and achieved something so close to it, he knew better that to put it all to waste, putting his life in the hands of an enraged God.

"You're already losing it, Kakuzu." Picking up easily on the man's rage, Pain continued to somehow taunt him with such nonchalance. "Should I even tell you? Will you even be able to stand it?"

This time, Kakuzu refused to grace Pain with any response. He watched Pain, and Pain continued to watch him. "It's nothing beyond your capabilities, Kakuzu. Only an experiment, to test and build the teamwork and compatibility between you and your partner."

A bold-faced, lie, Kakuzu knew.

"Why not do the same to the others then? Why only us? There's the new team you could test instead. After all, Tobi and Deidara…"

"… work well together, the both of them. They may bicker, yes. But both have managed to work well together. I don't want any more questions on them. My reasons are undisclosed as to why I cannot choose them, and it is not required that you hear those particular reasons. You and Hidan are thus the best available pair suited to my purposes."

Bullshit, utter bullshit. But still, he thought about it. Kakuzu honestly thought about it. He felt like a toy, a simple plaything in his Leader's hands. This fact angered him the most. Kakuzu was not the type to be used, that seemed more befitting of Hidan. Yet at the same time, this promise of compensation… it seemed almost TOO good to pass up...

"… so when you say the pay depends…"

"You want to know how to receive the most profit?" Pain interrupted, seeming to read Kakuzu's mind. A frightening thought. "I knew that would catch your interest. Do you agree than, Kakuzu?"

Still, Kakuzu gave no response. But the glint of greed in his eyes was answer enough…

~End Chapter 1~


	2. Chapter 2

Authoress' Note: Vers. 2.0 for chapter 2 now…

Chapter 2

Hidan was an emotional man. Not in the way that you are thinking, perhaps. He was not THAT kind of man. He simply had this tendency to get carried away.

It was emotional in a way that he could get so worked up during his rituals, so in touch with himself and his body, as the blade pierced his heart. So much pleasure, so much glee and dark enjoyment; he almost felt that he could DIE from it.

Not that he ever would, of course, or that he could. Oh, but if this was what it felt like… if he could, he would have gladly taken it.

Dark splatters of blood covered the walls of his room, smeared and dripping. He lay in the center of the floor, a kunai buried to the hilt in his heart. He could feel a chill, emanating from the cold metal to the inner part of the muscle, with each feeble beat. He stared at the ceiling in a quiet state of post-euphoria. Like the after-effects of a drug-induced high, he was drowsy with the feeling of falling back to Earth. He'd made an absolute mess, he thought apathetically, as the blood dripped, thick and cooling, onto his face from where it had hit the ceiling. But, _oh_, did it feel so good. He felt SO much better, seeing that built up frustration painted out on the walls. Made him feel light and free. Or maybe that was just the blood loss doing that…

A tap came at the door, a gentle sound that aroused Hidan from his trance-like state. He looked to it, hoping perhaps that he had only imagined it. But the knocking got louder, breaking his hope. Fuck. What a mood killer.

Roughly pulling the kunai from himself, Hidan let out a pleased hiss as the blood spurted forward, no longer contained. After a minute, it dripped to a steady flow. He wiped the thickest part of the blood that covered him, decimating it at least to a thin layer. He was a mess, covered in blood, watered down only by sweat. Not that he particularly minded. He had gotten the stitches removed in the process at least. And if the person on the other side of that door didn't like it, then they shouldn't have come to see him in the first damned place. Everyone knew him enough to know what those screams of pain and sick enjoyment meant, the noises becoming a sort of warning.

It took a couple tries for Hidan to get a good grip on the door knob. The slick metal was too smooth, constantly slipping in his blood-covered grip. He used the door as support for his trembling body to stay up, gripping tighter to overcome the shaking that came as the person knocked harder. He could feel the loose flap of his cheek slapping against the part of his jawbone running from his chin. Shit, he'd forgotten about that. He'd have to ask Kakuzu to fix that later.

Oh, speak of the devil…

"Th' hell d'you want?" Hidan asked blearily, the moment his mind registered Kakuzu standing there in front of his door. He spoke, Kakuzu noted, with a slight slur, most likely owing to the oozing tears on his lips where seams had been ripped in favor of severing. His cheek was still disconnected, of course, and he had just done one of his rituals, as Kakuzu could estimate from the amount of blood and stab wounds speckling the sickly pale man's body. Ignoring the blood spots covering the floor, Kakuzu invited himself in, pushing past Hidan. He just wanted to get this over with already.

"'ey, 'ey!" Hidan snarled as he was bumped to the side. He recovered his wobbly footing, turning with Kakuzu to glare at him. "Who said you could come in?!"

"Oh, shut up." Kakuzu growled. Taking his cloak, he threw it over a blood stain on the bed, sitting down atop the cover. Hidan seemed strangely awkward in his own room now, fidgeting while glowering at Kakuzu. He mumbled indistinctively, something that was NEARLY along the same lines of 'make yourself comfortable', only followed by an expletive of some sort. He then walked to the other side of the room, leaning against the wall.

The following silence was so heavy, it could have suffocated a man. It was barely with patience that both put up with it, until someone spoke again.

"So…" Hidan began, as if jumping at the first thing that came to mind. Which was exactly what he was doing. "… got those damn stitches out."

"I can see that." Kakuzu responded in a low growl, already feeling a headache coming on. If the conversation continued on like this, he wouldn't last long. "Why didn't you just wait for me to get back from the report?"

"Because you took too damn long! Those things were startin' to itch, I'd had them in for hours! What'd you EXPECT me to do?"

"Perhaps wait long enough for this to be done properly, so that you wouldn't screw up your face!" The logic of his partner was maddening to Kakuzu sometimes. Here he was, standing there with a jacked-up face, and all he seemed concerned about was that he continue to defy the other man. He glared with a cold expression, aware that he had no real argument with Kakuzu. Not, of course that that was going to stop him; it never did.

Neither man was budging, and Kakuzu knew that if he was going to get this over with, he needed to make the first move. Otherwise, the entire thing would just pass without incident, time would be wasted, and Kakuzu would emerge from the whole ordeal just plain pissed. Letting out a sigh that sounded more like a snarl, Kakuzu got up, striding over to Hidan's side of the room. Hidan pressed up against the wall at first in shock. He then let out what could only be described as a screech of protest as Kakuzu grabbed him by the hair, dragging him back to the bed.

"Ah, FUCK, Kakuzu! Not the damn hair, that stings like a fucker!"

"Hypocrite." The man grunted, sitting down again and shoving Hidan's head onto his lap, the left side of his face with the ripped cheek facing up. Hidan's complaints quieted to annoyed mumbles as the threads came out, sewing up Hidan's face. At last, a more comfortable silence filled the room.

Hidan's reactions were interesting to watch, Kakuzu thought mildly. As the needle laced through the skin, he would let out a hiss of approval, sometimes a moan. His body would jolt with what seemed like a sense of ecstasy, obviously soaking in the experience of pain with every fiber of his body.

It seemed apparent to Kakuzu that he had been the given the strangest partner he could have ever received. A religious immortal sado-masochist who hated having his hair pulled, claiming it stung. And yet he loved the feel of foreign, sharp objects in his internal organs. And hell, Kakuzu was stuck with him whether he liked it or not.

The thread was severed as Kakuzu finished with the side of Hidan's face. It took a moment before Hidan realized that the man was done, and once he had, it took another moment of blank stares and blinking before he said anything. "Shi- right, thank, I guess." he said dismissively, almost jumping up. He was not blushing, but his body language and shifting eyes made it apparent to Kakuzu that he was a bit embarrassed by the fact that he had been lying there so long. He began to get up off of the bed, but yelped as Kakuzu rolled his eyes, pulling him back down again. "FUCK, Kakuzu! What the hell do you want now?!"

"Did you forget those tears in your lips?" Kakuzu replied bitterly. He pulled Hidan's head back against his shoulder, now going to work on the smaller tears, keeping the close contact for the sake of finer detail. Hidan fidgeted slightly, his pink eyes practically rolling into the back of his skull as he looked back at Kakuzu. "How long is this shit gonna take?" he groaned. His body shivered against Kakuzu's as the sharp-tipped thread stung at his lips, small stitches sewing them up. Kakuzu twitched away slightly from the man's trembling body, trying to hide his disgust. Forget interesting. In this close contact, Hidan's over-excited reactions were sickening. It took everything Kakuzu had to keep a civil face.

"Do you want me to stop, then?" he finally asked, in response to Hidan's earlier question, though delayed. Hidan stared back at him again, inquisitive.

"If I say yes, will you just keep going?" he continued the questioning game, his response sounding doubtful. He had no faith in his partner, honestly. Not that he really had reason to. His tone of voice made Kakuzu just was to make it hurt MORE in response. There were a couple of things stopping him from doing this, however, the main one being that it would be defying the goal given to him by Pain. The second part, of course was attached to that. Kakuzu had this sneaking suspicion that the two of them were being watched, most likely on Pain's orders. If he screwed up now, there would be no way to cover it up, and the final sum would be brought down by such an early mistake. No, this had to be dealt with delicately. Delicate… now THERE was a foreign word to Kakuzu. He thought over what type of response would go under that category, and said – mistakenly – the first thing that came to mind.

"No, I'll stop. But only if you ask me to, of course."

It sounded acceptable in Kakuzu's head. But as soon as the words came out of his mouth, Hidan pulled away in a blur, as if Kakuzu had suddenly caught fire. Moving to the other side of the bed, Hidan stared at him, a glint in his eyes that was not so much from fear than from frozen apprehension.

"I didn't hear you right there, did I?" He mumbled sarcastically. Kakuzu stared back at him, controlling the urge to slap him across the face for being both difficult and incredibly stupid. His patience was held in a way that was painful for him. He hated having to control himself around his partner. Btu with a calming inhalation of breath, he continued.

"There's no need to overreact, Hidan. Is there something wrong with me trying to help?"

It was apparently the wrong thing to say. At the drop of the 'h' word, Hidan jumped off of the bed, his foot kicking up the blood-stained scythe from the floor, and his hands grabbing it quickly, reflexes sharp. His grip on the handle was so tight, his knuckles were turning white.

"Who the hell are you, and what the fuck have you done with Kakuzu?" Kakuzu was not sure which was worse – the sudden outburst or the lack of originality. Even worse was the fact that Kakuzu could not tell of the question was rhetorical or entirely serious. Yet at the same time, Kakuzu could understand why Hidan was so demanding suddenly. He was indeed acting quite unlike himself at the moment. But what else was he supposed to do? His own natural reactions were not befitting to his current needs and requirements. At this point, however, the lies that he had given were not working any faster, at any rate. Choosing for his impatience to rule him again, Kakuzu used his odd tendrils of thread to pull Hidan back down. "Will you shut up and let me HELP!" he snarled. There, nice _enough_. He was still helping, after all. Still, though, Hidan fidgeted, squawking protests, and feeling incredibly nervous. And it was only in that that Kakuzu felt satisfaction.

Death was something Kakuzu relished in, the control of another person's life. It was the feel of certain stability, like the kind that Kakuzu had in money. Prices would rise and fall, true, money would lose its worth in hard times. But never did money lose its use, its control. Death was used – in a way – for similar purposes; to put a certain CONTROL over the populace. If things didn't die, the population would swell, thing would get out of control. Life was as precious as money, but could not last long. If life continued on too long – if people gained too much fortune – then it would lose it's worth, and the world would be overburdened with it. So just as Kakuzu loved his control over money, he loved the control of other's destinies.

But filthy little cockroaches like Hidan, things that refused to die… their lives were worth NOTHING. And yet, they continued living, burdening others with their existence. Kakuzu hated it, hated that lack of control, that one fluctuation that messed up everything else. He couldn't kill Hidan, no matter how hard he may try. So, having this type of control, this grip on Hidan as he struggled now – that was the next best thing. Hidan was scare – or, at least, as scared as an immortal such as him could be. Kakuzu held Hidan as still as he could on his lap in order to apply the stitches. A hand was o the man's neck, and he could feel the pulsating convulsions of the blood pumping through the veins, vibrating the tips of the older man's fingers.

With the motion of Hidan's pulse and the nervous, tiny movements, it took a moment before Kakuzu became aware of the echoing silence in the room. And it was only when Kakuzu became aware of THAT particular factor that he was aware that Hidan had stopped really struggling. The silver-haired Jashinist was still giving fitful twitches, but there was no fight in them. As Kakuzu made eye contact with the younger man, he became aware that his gaze had been transfixed on Kakuzu for quite some time now, his breathing shallow, and his eyes half-lidded. Kakuzu vaguely wondered what had caused the sudden change of reaction, until he unconsciously found himself sliding his hand down Hidan's neck, relaxing himself as he though. It was then that Hidan shivered again violently, his pulse fluttering lightly.

"Kakuzu," he gasped, "get your fuckin' hands off me…"

"I'm not done yet." Kakuzu replied, calm, but curious at Hidan's sudden reaction, at this strange control he suddenly had. _Curious_, he thought for a moment, in bitterness. Why not angry? Why not the one emotion he was usually so dependent upon? He tried to get over the wondering of that, instead pushing his attentions back to this bizarre feeling (CURIOUSITY, he growled to himself again mentally). There was no more time to do anything else about it though, as Hidan shoved his hands off of himself, and stood up abruptly, trembling where he stood.

"Out." he said, voice cracked and hoarse, but not yet shouting as was more usual. His commanding tone at last extinguished Kakuzu's interest, making him go back to wanting to strangle him. But still, he reminded himself that if he did that, it would be all over. Not wanting to hear Hidan's whining, which would undoubtedly push him over the edge - as it always did – Kakuzu left the room without a fight, leaving his blood-stained cloak on the bed. The rest of his clothes were soaked as well, the fabric wet from Hidan laying on him, dripping and covered in blood. He felt disgusting, Hidan's blood slicked and sticky on his skin. Still hiding how sick all these things made him, he slowly walked away, feeling Hidan's eyes following him across the room. That gaze finally broke away when he walked through the door, closing it behind him.

As Kakuzu strode away, he heard a shifting sound, like the very walls were moving, changing around him. He came to a slow stop, knowing he had company, and waiting for them to speak.

"I think you've upset him." The voice was soft, almost immature. Kakuzu looked back at Zetsu, hanging from the side of the wall, at an upwards slant. His bright yellow eyes seemed to search Kakuzu for a reaction. Kakuzu was intent upon giving none.

"I behaved myself." He said stoicly. "I still have two more days."

"_If you don't break first_." Zetsu's mouth did not move this time, but he spoke nonetheless. His voice this time may not have been mocking or malicious, but nonetheless was negative, and dark. There seemed to be a glint in the pupilless yellow, orb-like eye on the black half of the man's body. "_You barely survived in there_."

"Oh, maybe he can do it." With an airy confidence, Zetsu replied to himself, though he continued to stare at Kakuzu. It annoyed the old man. He had no patience for Zetsu at the moment. He walked away quickly, leaving the strange man in the company of only himself.

Zetsu was right, though, Kakuzu admitted bitterly. He had barely gotten through this whole thing, and had still upset Hidan. Well, what else did they expect of him? He could treat Hidan kindly, but that did not change how he truly felt at his core. Not that true feelings helped. Yes, this was a hard bet to win. But he WOULD win, no matter how this affected Hidan.

Honestly, he scoffed to himself. If Pain had wanted to make this a REAL challenge, he should have specified a detail like that. After all, when did things like that _ever_ matter?

* * *

Hidan's skin was crawling, his heart racing, and pushing blood from the closing wounds all over his body. They, like the tears in his cheek, had already started to heal. He hadn't needed Kakuzu's help, he repeated to himself fervently, a little worked up over what had just happened. Why had he just sat there, and let him do that?

The ghost of Kakuzu's touch was on Hidan's neck, making him shiver. He cursed himself for having such sensitive skin. It was something he couldn't help. But because of it, he had made an absolute idiot of himself in front of Kakuzu. No, no just that… he had been practically MELTING in the hands of the other man, becoming an embarrassment to himself. It made him retch, just thinking about it.

And yet, there was one thing he could not forget, could not deny no matter how hard he tried; it had felt good. It felt strange as hell for Kakuzu to act like that, but at the same time, it had a careful, meticulous feel that was calming. Pleasing. To repeat himself, GOOD, plain and simple. Ah, Jashin, Hidan wished he could get his mind off of this! Why did he care? Why the HELL did he care if Kakuzu decided to turn weird on him like this, to do these things to him?

He didn't. That's all Hidan had to convince himself of, to tell himself. And in that way, he would not give a care about this, because, as he told himself again, He DIDN'T give a care. He sunk down and laid in the puddle of his own blood, repeating this as a mantra to calm himself. Gah, he was dizzy. Couldn't think straight, his head swimming. Everything was going black before his eyes, the blood on the ceiling continuing to drip, tickling the sides of his neck as it slid down his skin. No, he still didn't care. He still WOULDN'T care.

Entering a state of relaxation, sinking back into his post-euphoria he had had earlier, Hidan allowed himself to pass out from blood loss, knowing he would heal faster with sleep. He already felt the regeneration of his cheek beginning, and stubbornly refused to admit that it wouldn't have happened had Kakuzu not helped. No, he was not going to THINK about Kakuzu right now. He wasn't going to think about the feeling dancing round his neck, mimicked by the blood slowly dripping there.

Hidan, as was said earlier, is an emotional man, to a point of sensitivity. And sometimes, he could hate himself for it. Because that meant he could feel everything sometimes, whether he wanted to or not.

~End Chapter 2~


	3. Chapter 3

Authoress' Note: Progress! This is good! :D! Getting farther in the story! Hang in there, and keep following! We are getting closer to the smex!

Chapter 3

Yes, Hidan was a sensitive man. How could he ever enjoy himself if he wasn't?

It was sensitivity to sensation that fueled him, made him shiver and moan when the blades cut through his flesh, ripping muscles and tendons, bursting vessels open so that they could bleed out their offering to his God. It made him squirm as he cut deeper, cold steel sliding past throbbing internal organs, giving him a chill from deep within himself. His heart was especially delicate. Such a fragile organ, demanding protection, nestled next to his lungs, hiding under his ribs. It made him scream in pleasure and pain as it fought to continue beating around these foreign objects that dug deep in its core. Ah, nothing felt better than that.

But today, it was different. Hidan held his frustration as he impaled himself upon the ground, laying still, and pushing the thought aside for his prayers. Kakuzu was watching him, he knew, and he blamed his lack of enjoyment in his rituals on this. For that was exactly what was wrong with him at this moment: he was not able to enjoy this, not with this twisting feeling inside of him, like he was going to be sick.

"Would you stop fucking staring?" Hidan snapped, looking up towards Kakuzu. Kakuzu did not look away, of course. Instead, he merely raised an eyebrow, his gaze fixated more onto the other man. Hidan growled at him in frustration. "You're rushing me, I hate that." He added, putting his complaint on the defense. Kakuzu stared at him a bit more, and then sighed.

"I'm not rushing you." he said, in a bothered tone. "Have I said a single thing to rush you?"

"Yeah, well, it feels like you are!" The frustration was building in Hidan's voice. He was beginning to lose it. He knew very well how stupid his protests sounded right now. He was perfectly aware also that Kakuzu had not done so much as an impatient sigh. That was what had been bothering him the last few minutes. Kakuzu hadn't said A THING. He hadn't bitched about Hidan's whining, hadn't snarled at him, hadn't threatened him, and hadn't ONCE told him to hurry up so he could go get his money. He hadn't mentioned money period, actually. That in itself was reason to worry. Hidan could still vividly remember last night, Kakuzu's hands on his neck. It had all started because Kakuzu had been acting strange. Now, today, he had gone back to that peculiar behavior. And Hidan was not keen on the incident repeating.

Though Hidan was not completely done with the ritual, he couldn't focus enough to continue. He could make up for it back at the Akatsuki base. Pulling himself up, Hidan took as much enjoyment as he could from the sudden sting. Once that was gone, he felt… hollow. How strange.

"Done." He grunted, adjusting his cloak. He turned to Kakuzu. Damn it, he was STILL staring. "Grab your damn bounty so we can go."

"Right." Just like that. He was AGREEING with Hidan. Never before had Hidan been so bothered by someone so eager to be on his side. No, Hidan knew that that was not the problem. The problem was that Kakuzu was not EAGER. Not in the least bit, hadn't REALLY seemed to agree with Hidan for any sake. It was a slavish kind of reluctance, like he was doing this because he HAD to.

And that, precisely, was what was driving Hidan up a fucking wall. He didn't like it one bit.

Slinging the dead body limply over his shoulder, Kakuzu began walking off, but stopped, waiting for Hidan. Hidan reluctantly caught up to him, staying a little behind him on his right, the spot blinded by the bounty's position. He wanted to avoid Kakuzu staring at him, avoid that penetrating gaze. There was nothing, however, to stop Kakuzu from talking to him.

"Did you want me to sew that up first?" The offer was kind; the voice was insincere. The grip on Hidan's scythe twitched, shaking almost delicately. It made him want to kill something, made him want to kill Kakuzu. Again, he found himself eyeing the other man's back, gaze flitting to absorb the exact position of every mask. Two swings, and with the range of his scythe, he could easily take care of all four of Kakuzu's extra hearts. That easy, he told himself softly. It would be that easy…

"Hidan… you're being strangely silent today…"

Kakuzu's low voice pulled Hidan from the depths of his own insanity, brought him back into reality. The man had turned to face him, dropping his bounty. Those eyes were boring through him again, making him squirm like a worm on a hook. "Stop fuckin' staring." He growled bitterly, aware of how repetitive he was being. Kakuzu continued to eye him, looking curious about the other man's reaction. Curiosity – that was a damn funny emotion to see in the miser's eyes. And suddenly, the discomfort disappeared, inexplicably replaced by an urge Hidan had to laugh, to laugh in Kakuzu's face, simply because he was so ridiculous when he ACTUALLY seemed to feel something. The amusement must have been plain in Hidan's own eyes, for Kakuzu immediately turned to a look of annoyance, of rage. "Is something funny?"

"Nothin' worth mentioning." Hidan snorted, walking ahead. Yes, he was aware that it was he, now, that was getting on Kakuzu's nerves. But this was easily justified in Hidan's mind under the thought of 'fair is fair'. He had every right now to put Kakuzu through Hell. It was a trait of Jashinism as much as the practice slaughter was – the right to torture people, merely by the use of words. This, however, was a tactic Hidan did not often use. That required time, patience, and wit. Not that Hidan was lacking in all of these elements. Wit was something commonly needed for sarcasm. It was time and patience that Hidan struggled with, and had a very low supply of.

What Hidan did have of these things proved successful usually, particularly against Kakuzu. It made the much-older man's blood boil, pissed him off, and made everything so much more fun for Hidan. Or, it had in the past, at least. But now, at this moment, Kakuzu was too quiet, too calm. It directly contradicted with the anger in his eyes, the clear need to rip Hidan apart. Yet he stayed completely silent. Again, holding back, AGAIN, that false sense of kindness, of regard for Hidan's well-being with no actual drive, AGAIN….

"You should probably stitch that up. Do you want me to or nor?"

"Fuck you!" Hidan snapped. Fuck, he was pissed. But he could also feel his body pitching forward in an uncontrollable sway. Dizziness. Jashin, blood loss could be a bitch. But despite how bad it was getting, Hidan was not going to accept Kakuzu's help, even now. Not while he was keeping up this disregarding insincerity.

And in Hidan's insanity, this was entirely justified. Two birds with one stone, kill it all out quick – his own suffering saves his pride. Jashin himself wouldn't have done it any other way.

* * *

It felt like not even MONEY could stop Kakuzu from snapping at this point; the way that Hidan pushed him to his limits, seeming like he was just trying to get a reaction, SOMETHING. He was an idiot. A weak idiot, Kakuzu noted, as Hidan's body swayed on the spot. He had never fully recovered from his rituals of last night. Stupid, stupid man. Kakuzu caught him as he fell back a few minutes later with a groan, eyes fluttering shut. Sewing up his wounds, Kakuzu slung him over his other shoulder, growling. Now he had TWO bodies to carry.

/_**You're holding up surprisingly longer than I thought.**_/

"Shut the hell up." Kakuzu muttered, seemingly to himself. Not that that was what mattered to him. He was already upset enough as it was; having Pain's voice echoing in his head just made it worse. "I thought you only contacted us like this when you needed to."

/_**I needed to check up on how you were doing. Are you keeping your partner happy?**_/

"I'm being civil." He growled. "That's enough, isn't it? You never said I needed to keep him happy as well."

/_**The two go hand in hand. Besides – if you treat him in the manner I specified, you get more money.**_/

A noise of frustration came from low in Kakuzu's throat. He looked around, checking his surroundings. "Do you still have Zetsu tailing me?" he grumbled. His eyes shifted at the first hint of movement in the trees. There was no initial sign of a reply. The thing that annoyed Kakuzu about conversing with Pain in this manner was this bland nature of it. Pain was emotionless in person, but his eyes; they sometimes told enough. This way, however, there was no eye contact. It was a cold and distant tactic, something that drilled the fact into your mind that Pain was God.

Hidan believed that Pain was a 'false idol', and that it was just as bad as Kakuzu's love of money. Kakuzu, in a similar way, thought that both of those two were the same, in belief of superior beings in charge of others' lives. Money, again and again, proved to me a more prevalent, controlling force.

He would have given Hidan this lecture had Hidan not been unconscious at the moment.

/_**Stop worrying. Zetsu is nowhere near either of you at the moment. I've decided to give you both some privacy – that should give you enough time.**_/

"What the hell are you talking about?" A tone of suspicion was in Kakuzu's voice. He did not trust the way that Pain had phrased that. "You're beating around the bush. What is it you want me to do, Pain?"

/_**Like I said, Kakuzu, stop worrying. This is merely branching off of my original instructions. The more you do, the more I pay you. That's simple enough, isn't it?**_/

"I see nothing simple about this, Pain. You're hinting at something. Let me know now, or I'll just keep going like this until the end of tomorrow. When the bet ends then, I'll simply get whatever money I've earned at that point."

/_**I'm extending the deadline for you. You have until the end of the week, an extra four days. That should give you plenty of time to increase your earnings, and at least double them, if not quadruple.**_/

Damn it, Kakuzu was going to kill him. He grit his teeth, grinding them and wearing them down in aggravation. He knew Pain wasn't doing this for the hell of it, pulling some random idea out of his ass. Pain always gave reason for the things he did, especially in such instances as this one. He was trying to get Kakuzu interested, like he had in the beginning. He knew, whatever plan it was that he had in mind was not going to make the accountant happy. He was bribing him, plain and simple. And this time, Kakuzu had the feeling that the final outcome would be an undesirable one.

/_**Kakuzu.**_/

Pain knew he was there. The call was commanding, reprimanding him for being unresponsive to his Leader. Kakuzu bottled his rage, leaving it to be unleashed later and answered in a low, primitive, snarling tone. "I don't need an extension, Pein. I don't want this going on any longer than it needs to."

/_**Oh, but it needs to, Kakuzu. You see, my intent requires this little bet to go on a bit longer, give you time to prepare. After all, I'm sure the next part of this will be a bit hard for you to process.**_/

Silence. Both of the men hushed, Kakuzu with a biting sense of confusion, a feeling like he almost knew what Pain was insinuating. He wanted to threaten Pain, to tell him to fuck off. Instead, he repeated, as patiently as he could, "What is it you want me to do?"

/_**I've already said, Kakuzu. I want you to keep your partner happy; to please him as best as you can. Do I need to spell it out for you? Or do you understand me now?**_/

It felt as if someone had dropped a large ball of ice down Kakuzu's stomach. The feeling made him nauseous, the thoughts implanted by Pein making him flinch and retch. He growled and snarled bitterly, then stopped, dropping Hidan to the ground. The immortal stayed unconscious and Kakuzu glared into blank space as he addressed Pain. "The bet's off." He said, feeling his arm twitch with the urge to tear something limb from limb. "Not even money can convince me to do that. I'm coming back this instant with Hidan."

/_**Then it's an order. I am not asking that you do this – I am COMMANDING.**_/

The last word boomed in Kakuzu's head, unassailable, vigorous. An order, as Pain said. He was making this a requirement. Kakuzu grabbed at the only defense that he had, though he could already sense it refutation. "I thought the intent here was for me to make Hidan 'happy'. What makes you so sure he'll want this?"

/_**I think you know the answer to that already.**_/ There it was, exactly as Kakuzu had expected. /_**That had never been my true motive. I despise Hidan as much as you do. Rather, my motive is to crush his spirit, and test the limits that both of you have.**_/

(_Then do your own damn dirty work!_) The thought almost exploded from Kakuzu in a scream. Not even Hidan could have over wracked his body with this much fury, this much irritation, this much plain, unbridled, LOATHING. It was also the first time Pein had managed it. Kakuzu had respect for his Leader, but not enough to make this sound any better. Not enough to forgive this.

"If I don't?" Kakuzu asked, in a low, dangerous tone that for anyone else would have never been heard, or given a straight, fearless answer. But Pain held the authority and power in this situation – he gave no sense of apprehension or reluctance as he answered.

/_**You will be punished under the qualifications of insubordinance – the punishment will be severe. Remember, Kakuzu; unlike Hidan, you **__**can**__** actually die.**_/

He didn't need to be reminded. Kakuzu continued to stare off into blank space, and then looked back at Hidan. It took a couple of minutes before Kakuzu could recover his senses. Finally, he slung Hidan back over his shoulder, walking away.

/_**Where are you going?**_/ Now, Pain seemed inquisitive, though the voice was also very bland and monotone. Kakuzu gave himself another minute before answering.

"To turn in the bounty."

/_**And then?**_/

"I'm taking Hidan to the nearest town to rest. We'll stay at an inn until the end of the week." The last part Kakuzu had to practically spit out in rage, laced with venom. The answer, however, satisfied Pein, whose voice quieted in Kakuzu's head. Kakuzu felt his hand twitch on Hidan's back, and resisted from digging his nails into the pale, exposed skin.

The time to hurt him would come later, whether either of them wanted it or not.

* * *

By the time Hidan woke up again, he took notice of two things: the first was a bed. A nice, warm, comfortable bed. He had been tucked into its blankets, though they were also messy, tangled around his limbs. He had been sleeping restlessly, and he couldn't even remember anything he had dreamed about. The last thing he really could recall was walking, and everything going rather dark. And now, here he was.

As Hidan continued to look around, he noticed one other thing; lack of a partner. Kakuzu didn't seem to be anywhere in Hidan's vicinity of observation. What WAS there was a plate of food, set out on a dining room table. Hidan pushed himself out of bed, and towards the food. Ignoring the fact that it was stone cold, he shoved the sustenance down his throat as quickly as he could. It caught in his throat, choking him, and he grabbed a nearby glass of water, swallowing that down as well.

He was still dizzy, incredibly so. He was swaying again where he stood, nearly falling over. Hidan stumbled back to bed, flopping down onto the covers, and curling up. The vertigo was making him sick, and he was already beginning to regret eating so fast.

The door behind him opened, slammed. Hidan heard a rustling of bags, things being set heavily down onto the counter. After a couple of minutes, Kakuzu's gruff voice carried to Hidan from the dining room.

"Are you awake?"

"Hnnn…" Hidan groaned, feeling too sick to form coherent words. Footsteps grew closer to the bedside, Kakuzu coming closer. Hidan flinched as Kakuzu's hand slapped over his forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling away. Kakuzu looked to the table and empty plate, then back to Hidan.

"Well, you don't have a fever – yet. It looks like you can eat, you're doing fine."

"I'm fuckin' sick." Hidan rasped, mumbling weakly. Kakuzu shook his head.

"You're most likely anemic. All that blood loss, no time to recover. Stay in bed. We're going to be here for awhile."

Kakuzu's tone was dreary as he began arranging jars and other food items in a small kitchen tucked away in the corner of the room. Hidan slowly sat himself up in bed to the best of his ability, and stared after the raven-haired man, puzzled.

"What about work? Missions?"

"Leader-san's given us the rest of the week off. Paid vacation. I told him that we needed it."

"Th' hell, Kakuzu!" There it was again. An obvious distaste in Hidan's voice as he fumed in the bed. With a sigh, Kakuzu turned away from him, instead putting his attention on cleaning up the Jashinist's leftover dishes. "I don't need any time off! Just gimme a couple of hours to rest, I'll be fine! But don't pull me out of work for five fuckin' days!"

"It's called a favor, Hidan." growled the miser. "You should be thanking me for it."

"Fuck now! You've been doing me 'favors' for two days now, and it's already driving me nuts! Learn to leave me the Hell alone, will you?!"

"Well, considering we're partners, that's a bit hard to do, Hidan!"

Both glared at each other, but Kakuzu was the first to give up. He turned away once again, avoiding looking directly at the other man. As for Hidan, he remained pissy and annoyed. For the most part, he also remained silent, not wanting to bother with Kakuzu at the moment. The only time he said something was when he saw Kakuzu beginning to head again for the door. "Hey!" he snapped, rage increasing, as well as his steadily changing sanity. "You're gonna leave me her all alone now?"

"Didn't you just ask me to?" groaned Kakuzu in frustration while grabbing a room key. He always had a bit of trouble adjusting with Hidan's mood consistently. Hidan was still scowling at him, though it was now from an apparently entirely different situation.

"I didn't mean abandon me while I'm sick. 'Kuzu, are you leaving?"

He sighed heavily, and growled as well at the given nickname from his partner. Continuing to gather his things, he replied, "Yes, Hidan. But only for a minute. I still have some shopping to do, God forbid I can take a vacation without spending money…"

"Buy me dango." Now, the man's voice was dropping to a calm hush. Ah, God bless both his sickness and adjusting moods. His voice was slurred and tired. Kakuzu rolled his eyes, wondering of he even had enough time to answer him.

"I thought you were feeling sick."

"Dango… dango'll make me feel… better.."

A loud yawn, then silence. He had fallen asleep. Kakuzu dropped everything, walking back to Hidan's side, and tucking him into the covers, as he already began to pitch around in his sleep restlessly. He felt stupid for caring, but he figured in the end, it would be for his benefit. The sooner Hidan recovered, the sooner he'd get his money, and the sooner he would forget everything that occurred this week.

He ran one hand over Hidan's face, almost in a way to assure him as he moaned in his sleep. But Kakuzu would never call it that; not that he DID have a name for it. All he knew was that every time he had used it so far, it made Hidan shut up. Like now, as Hidan sighed, limbs relaxing and breathing becoming more even and calm. As quickly as he could, Kakuzu pulled his hand away.

How could he do this? How did Pain SERIOUSLY expect him to do this?

Making a noise of disgust, Kakuzu grabbed the key and left. He could not stand being around Hidan in long bouts of time, especially knowing what he was supposed to be doing. It was not what he was accustomed to; hell, the whole thing was like that. Love and care was something Kakuzu had never known.

Then again, Pain, of course, had never specified that either had to be involved in this…

~End Chapter 3~


	4. Chapter 4

Authoress' Note: The chapters have been getting longer…… oO;  
The lemon countdown is going… lemon coming up next chapter, I promise! Until then, the plot prevails XD

Chapter 4

Evil never sleeps, or so the saying goes. And tonight, rest would not come to the Jashinist as he lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. As tired as he was, as weak as he felt, he could not close his eyes, could not drift off. He felt too sick, too restless, and too painfully inquisitive.

In the next room behind him, Kakuzu slept, finally allowing himself rest after hours of running in and out, of figuring prices, of counting out their budget. A glass of unknown flavored juice sat at Hidan's bedside, which Kakuzu had set down before going to bed. It was lukewarm now, at a room temperature, and Hidan refused to drink it. Instead, he tossed and turned fitfully, trying so desperately just to rest. There were restless words in his head, edgy spasms in his joints, and a sickness through his whole body. Sleep, sleep, he needed some goddamn sleep…

"Kakuzu…" he moaned, curling up. He didn't know what was wrong with him, only that Kakuzu could possibly help. But no answer or assistance came. The miser seemed too fast asleep. Sitting up in his bed, Hidan felt his head spin for a minute before everything evened out, the world correcting itself.

Ah, how strangely idealistic of a world that would be; and how incredibly boring.

This, unfortunately, was as far as Hidan could get up, it seemed. His limbs felt too weak to move any further. Staying in that position of sitting up, Hidan looked out the window, at the sky, at the stars shining above. At anything besides the glass of juice at his bedside.

There were still the ghosting movements on his face, on his neck. The feeling of Kakuzu nurturing him in his frailty, taking advantage of his defenselessness. Fuck, Hidan hated that feeling. It made him feel like a child again, when his father was the only one taking care of him. Before the man had run away, and was killed for being a traitor, a coward. Because, as Hidan realized then, nurture and caring were fleeting. No human had enough capacity to trouble themselves for anything that long. And hell, Kakuzu didn't have the capacity to do it for THIS long. Why he had been proceeding with it, Hidan had no clue. But it gave him a bad feeling, deep in his gut; an instinct he'd had since the War. It made the rage in his mind boil over, unable to bear it any longer. It made the constant mutterings of his insanity turn into screaming fits.

His eyes were beginning to finally burn from being open, and his lack of sleep. He was feeling weak again. Letting out a small groan, he sank back down into his sheets, his back turned to that glass of juice, still staring at the stars from his pillow. Kakuzu was no help in this dilemma; Hidan didn't need him. And as long as he could tell himself that, everything would be fine.

* * *

"Did you think I put this glass here for nothing? Or were you simply being an idiot again?!"

Kakuzu was seething; it was a good emotion on the older man, better than concern. Hidan glared back confidently, hoping it would stay that way. The red and green eyes were aglow with rage as he dumped the even-more-unidentifiable juice, which had spoiled from being left out. Hidan tried to sit up in his bed to continue their argument, but immediately felt too nauseous. Instead, he leaned back casually as he spoke. "I didn't want any fucking juice! I hate juice! I didn't even know what the fuck kind of goddamned juice it was! If you didn't want it to go bad, you should have asked if I wanted it FIRST."

"I was giving it to you because you NEED it, not because you WANT it!" Opening the fridge, Kakuzu pulled something out, and then slammed the door shut again, rattling jars of food and condiments. He held a carton of the juice, pouring it out; orange juice, as the label read. Kakuzu poured another glass of it, putting it again at Hidan's bedside. Hidan gave it a look from the other side of the bed, as if it were a contagious, disease-ridden thing. Arms folded, Kakuzu glowered at him. "Drink it." He hissed, fitting as much spite as he could into the two syllables. A shiver actually ran through Hidan's spine, with the feeling that something terrible was going to happen if he did not pick up that glass.

With hesitance and caution, Hidan took the cup into his hand, sitting up. He lifted it with a trembling grip to his lips. An expectant silence filled the room, with a pressure blown entirely out of proportions, and evidently filled with misplaced confidence. The substance barely touched Hidan's tongue when he spat it back out on the bed sheets in disgust, sounding as if he were choking. Kakuzu's responding snarl of rage was ignored, or possibly completely unheard.

"What the fuck!" Hidan coughed, kneeling forward. "There's all this shit floating in it! What the fuck kind of orange juice did you give me?!"

"That's called 'fucking pulp', Hidan!" Kakuzu spat Hidan's expletives straight back at him while grabbing a towel to clean up the mess. "And this is called laundry bills! And THIS," he snarled, pointing at his silver-haired partner, "is called a stubborn ass of an anemic partner who can't fucking listen!"

"OH, FUCK YOU! DID I ASK YOU TO HELP?!" Hidan was bellowing now, far past mere annoyance, and now honest-to-Jashin pissed off. He would have thrown the glass at Kakuzu's scarred and stitched-up face had the other man not already grabbed the glass and begun drinking it. "MAYBE I'D GET FUCKING BETTER IF YOU STOPPED DOING SHIT LIKE THIS! I SWEAR, FUCKING HEATHENS LIKE YOU JUST MAKE ME SO GODDAMN…"

There was no way to finish that sentence. At that moment, Kakuzu kissed him. There was no progressive, sugar-coated way of describing it, because the action was both sudden and rough, Kakuzu's lips and tongue prying open the other man's mouth. Just as Hidan's hazed mind began to process what was going on, a rush of thick and fairly gritty liquid flooded into Hidan's mouth, and a gentle massaging pressure on his neck coaxed him into swallowing it down. By the time Kakuzu pulled away, Hidan was speechless, unable to utter a thing without choking on his words. Kakuzu was already walking towards the bathroom.

"Y-You just…"

"… had to force-feed you the 'fucking orange juice'." Kakuzu growled. Hidan heard a tap turning, and a rush of water. This was followed by the sounds of gurgling and spitting. "Vitamin C helps you absorb iron. Iron will help your anemia. So next time drink the stuff yourself, or _next time_, I'll do that to you AGAIN."

Another rinse. Still stunned, Hidan just stared off towards where his partner was, and then finally gave a blink. With a strangled, frustrated noise, he threw the glass at the bathroom door, making it explode and shatter.

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD, I'LL KILL YOU!"

* * *

When Kakuzu kissed Hidan, he had been hoping slightly that at least some physical reaction would come of it, to further urge on his intended final task. Instead, he just felt a little bit sick, and rather annoyed. The annoyance only grew when he heard the sound of glass smashing against the door, and Hidan screaming like a lunatic. Which, in all fairness, he was. Hidan seemed the only one yet to realize it.

"Will you quit acting like such a prude?" he growled. "What I did was necessary, and for the record, I was not kissing you, at least not like that. Besides," he added, going on, "you're overreacting. I highly doubt this is the first time this has ever happened to you."

Again, at that, Hidan went completely silent. At first, it troubled Kakuzu, merely because Hidan shutting up was an uncommon event that only happened for a great cause. After a moment of consideration, however, Kakuzu decided not to take the blessing for granted. Picking up a small towel cloth, he dried his face as he walked back into the other room. He stepped lightly around the shattered glass sprinkled about, and the orange juice stains splattered in a trail from the bed to the bathroom. Hidan had quickly returned to curling up in his bed, his apparently current favorite hobby. Grabbing the key, Kakuzu headed for the door to leave once again.

"Would it hurt you to stay just for ten fuckin' minutes?"

Hidan's plea (if that was what something so crude could be called) was muffled by the sheets. It didn't help that he was muttering. Kakuzu honestly could never understand this man. One minute he was screaming and throwing glasses, the next he was asking Kakuzu to stay with him. There was not even a falter as Kakuzu unlocked the door, slipping the key into his pocket.

"I'll buy you dango. But I have to get out anyways, I need to get lunch."

"What about all that fucking food you bought yesterday?" Hidan's voice was a little clearer now, and Kakuzu assumed he had flipped onto his other side. He didn't particularly feel like turning round to check. "Fucking stay, will you?"

"Why, Hidan?" Kakuzu sighed impatiently. "So we can continue to yell at each other? So you can break some more cups?"

"I won't, I promise. I swear on Jashin, Hallowed be His name…"

Jashin-Hallowed-be-His-name. What a long and tiresome thing to swear upon. There was another thing Kakuzu did not understand about Hidan – the customs, the ceremonies. He saw no point, only saw time being squandered and wasted. Nonetheless, despite his thoughts on Hidan and his religion, he hesitated in opening the door at last. If Hidan was swearing on his God, he was being extremely serious. He never joked when Jashin was concerned, even in mentioning. "Why are you being so stubborn about this?" he asked wearily. When Hidan did not answer, he turned to face him, pulling out his key, arm wavering between the actions of keeping it and putting it back. "Well?"

In the pink-shaded eyes across the room from him, Kakuzu could see a strange mix of emotions, none of which he could pinpoint as anything specific; only that not a single one seemed aimed at Kakuzu exclusively. "I don't like to be alone." The Jashinist murmured, the only spoken part to whatever it was he was feeling. There was no way for Kakuzu to surely know.

And honestly, he did not care right now.

"Stop your whining." It was cold, dismissive. But at least it was not deceptive. Kakuzu was beginning to get sick of that. "I'll be back after a few minutes." He turned away, resolute to not turn back. He needed time away from his partner at the moment, and didn't want to hesitate anymore. He walked out the door, locking it behind him. Abruptly, something fragile smashed from behind it, followed by howls of rage. Kakuzu was also aware of the hotel neighbors staring. He turned to face them, shrugging.

"He does that." He grunted dismissively. "It's best to ignore him. And I do not suggest checking if he's alright, for your sake."

Walking out casually, Kakuzu continued to ignore his partner's screams, and only hoped that he would do minor, replaceable damage to their room. There was a negligible concern in his mind as to why, exactly, his partner was so upset over this. But, once again, he honestly did not care right now.

* * *

Being alone had always been an intolerable thing for Hidan. Being alone meant that there was no one to kill, nothing left for Hidan's purpose. It meant that Hidan had to hide within himself, had to find some other way to keep back the things inside of him, the urges. The urges that even a partner like Kakuzu could barely repress, no matter that he refused to die, in his mimicry of immortality that was not as fleeting as it seemed.

He had ceased screaming a good half an hour ago, and a good twenty minutes after smashing every fragile glass-like object in the house. He was in a rage, and he wasn't even entirely sure why. He refused to believe it had anything to do with the miser leaving. Fuck Kakuzu, thought the Jashinist bitterly, with half a mind to leaving the room, despite Kakuzu's assurance that he would be back soon. He would have done it too, had he not felt so sickeningly faint, like he was about to fall over where he stood, leaning against the kitchen counter. There was a darkness threatening to overtake him, and a light flickering above his head like a fading spark of life. Broken glass things under his feet, cutting the tender exposed flesh.

This is what it feels like to die, he thought, feverish wonderings, whispers in his head. No longer feeling the need or strength to stay up, he allowed himself to drop down like a heavy weight. He felt the glass pierce him as he hit it, felt the sharp-sickle corners and jagged-cut sides slice him, making him exhale in relief as the pain released him. Jashin set him free, give him freedom in death. This was an addiction, he was perfectly conscious of that, one that gripped at his soul, promising him redemption. And who was he to shun that promise, that assurance?

He felt sick, nauseous almost. Trying to ignore it, he fought the feeling down, focusing only on the pain enveloping him. On the glass on the floor, broken. No, anything but the glass. Focus on anything but the glass. Focus on the fading sun, shining in, or the flickering glow above. Anything but the glass. Think of anything but him.

With a groan, Hidan sat up, pushing with the palms of his hands. These too cut easily on the glass like rock could be carved by diamond. Don't think of that. Anything but the glass, anything but the glass. That shouldn't have been so hard.

Getting up, Hidan wobbled to the bed, collapsing into it. Blood seeped out of the open wounds, others closed by the glass that twisted into him as he fell over, digging deeper and widening the wound with the movement. Curling up under the blankets, he felt cold suddenly. Like an ice was spreading through his veins. With it came the spread of pitch-black over his eyes, letting him slip off into some other state of rest.

A part of him wanted Kakuzu there right now, strangely enough…

* * *

When Kakuzu arrived back at the room with food, the place looked like a post-war zone. Glass shards lay everywhere like shrapnel, and a trail of blood led from the kitchen to Hidan's bed. At first, Kakuzu had been walking to the store paranoid that Hidan would do yet another ritual in his absence. Yet by the looks of things, which were not too bad, Hidan had merely fallen on the glass.

With a sigh, Kakuzu set the bags on the counter, walking to Hidan's bedside. Broken shards crunched under his shoes, like eggshells, scattered all around. Sitting by Hidan's bedside, he went to work.

There was glass jutting from every inch of his back, the soles of his feet, and on some areas of his arms and legs. After a bit of picking and searching, Kakuzu even found some pieces in his scalp. It was difficult to extract them, as Hidan's natural talents had caused the wounds to close, for the most part, AROUND the glass pieces. Surprisingly, however, it was only after one particularly nasty tag on a piece in his neck that Hidan jerked awake.

"A-aaah… f-fuck, Kakuzu!" he groaned, hissing in pain, hand protectively covering the newly re-opened wound. "What the hell are you doing? When did you fucking get back?"

"A few minutes ago. And I'm trying to get these out of you, so lie still."

This time around, Hidan was being much more cooperative, it seemed. He was passive, quiet, and a bit groggy. It was unusual to see, the equivalent of a tranquil wasp. But, nonetheless, it was convenient, and refreshing. For once, Kakuzu did not have to deal with a partner that was bitching and moaning about something at every interval of silence. It was also extremely relaxing.

When Kakuzu was done pulling glass out of Hidan's skin, he turned the silver-haired man onto his back, and walked to the kitchen. He grabbed a set of plastic cups from the bags he had brought home, and pulled out the orange juice, glad that Hidan had not thought to destroy the jars and food in the refrigerator. Pouring a glass, he returned to Hidan, pushing his chin up, and putting the cup to his lips.

"Drink." He ordered sternly, and Hidan complied, to his mild surprise. Kakuzu wondered if Hidan was even completely aware of what he was doing. If he was, there was no problem for him whatsoever, seeing as he drank until not a single drop was left. Again, going to the bag, Kakuzu retrieved a small, rectangular box, and placed it at Hidan's side. "Eat." He ordered again, and Hidan looked to it curiously.

"What is it?"

"Dango."

Immediately he pounced on it, as if the thing would disappear. Opening the box, he gave a small puzzled, frown. He pulled the treat from its container, staring. "It's not _anko_. he finally said, in a dull tone of disappointment. Kakuzu sighed.

"You're right, it's not. It's made with soy. Soy has protein, which you need at the moment. Now eat."

There was one last doubtful, but bleary look from Hidan. Eventually, though, he obeyed this as well, popping the treat into his mouth. If he enjoyed it, Kakuzu could not tell. But he also did not show any sign of disapproval. Giving Hidan some silence to enjoy his treat, Kakuzu dug into the freezer, pulling out a raw bloody steak for dinner, and setting it on the counter to thaw. From the fridge, he pulled out some lunch meat, and edamame. The bag held a fresh loaf of bread.

"What do you want on your sandwich?" Kakuzu called to Hidan. Hidan did not reply. Peering from round the counter, Kakuzu saw why; he was already asleep again, the stick of half-eaten dango dangling from his hand, threatening to fall. Heaving a sigh, Kakuzu just picked up the soy beans, setting them by Hidan's bedside, put away the soy treat, and then made himself some lunch.

God, that had to have been one of the most hassling things he'd ever had to put himself through. He glared at Hidan in annoyance, at how helpless the immortal was. It was odd to see, but only made Kakuzu's opinion of the man lessen.

He was still not entirely sure how he was going to accomplish his 'task', though he had a vague idea. The only problem was how Hidan would react. But even that did not seem like such a problem with Hidan now acting the way that he was.

Listen to him, he thought, disgusted. Planning this out, actually thinking over everything. He was in no way eager for this, and hated sounding like he was. Oh, Pain was going to pay for this when it was all over and done with…

Feeling tired from the day's efforts, Kakuzu finished half of his sandwich, and slumped over to his own bed. He stripped his coat, his mask, and headband, setting them down, sheltered in the privacy of his own room. His body hit the bed solidly, making the mattress creak and groan. His head rested on his arms, the rough sections where his stitches lay pressing into his cheek, rubbing against the ones that held him together there. The feel of his own skin was strange, even to him. He didn't even want to know what Hidan would think of it.

"Stop thinking about it." He growled to himself. "It doesn't matter. Just a job. Get it done, and then forget about it. Not important, it's not important…"

He wanted to fall asleep, but couldn't. It only took a few more minutes before Kakuzu deemed it impossible, and got back up. Pacing the floor, over the glass and debris, he just listened to it crunch softly, almost like snow, freshly fallen. When Kakuzu had had enough of this, he strode into the living room, stopping. He stared at Hidan with the look of one deep in thought, and then sat down beside the man.

What was he supposed to see? What COULD he see, that would make this task enjoyable, at least by a minimal amount? He ran his hands along the ivory skin, through the polished-silver hair. He massaged a rough palm over the bare chest, and managed to dare himself into skirting the hem of the other's pants. The man was visually appealing, there was no doubt to that. Kakuzu saw no problem in admitting that he found a male attractive, seeing as he had never made a particular effort to portray himself with any exacting sexual preference. There was nothing wrong to him about physical attraction between two men, and no issue with himself about feeling that way.

But that was just it; he could barely even feel a reaction like that, not for the zealot who lay in front of him now. It almost made him feel… disappointed, in a way. Like he was breaking some sort of obligation. Stupid, he hissed at himself mentally, for even thinking something like that.

Hidan himself was emotionless at the moment, dead to everything around him. Feeling sick of the silent company, Kakuzu moved back to his room to think. The debris still crunched under his feet, still fragile.

* * *

Surrounding Hidan when he awoke was the smell of cooking meat, blood. It made him stir restlessly until he finally sat up, inhaling it deeply, eyes sliding closed. When they opened again, a small plate of soybeans was shoved in front of his face.

"Appetizer; eat it." Kakuzu's gruff voice commanded. Hidan grabbed the plate obediently, but did not yet put the food into his mouth. Instead, he watched Kakuzu walk back to the kitchen, and pull open the stove. The smell of meat immediately became stronger, making Hidan release a mournful, hungry sigh.

"Fuck, Kakuzu, that smells damn good. Is it almost done?" He went to step onto the floor towards the kitchen, when Kakuzu barked sharply at him, "Shoes!" Hidan looked around at the shattered glass that still covered the floor, and then looked outside; night had fallen. Again, he looked to Kakuzu. "You haven't cleaned it up yet?" he whined, turning round and pulling on his shoes. His back was turned, but he felt a glare boring into his back that turned away after a minute.

"No, I called it in with the staff here. We're moving into another room while they fix it up." Hidan turned just in time for Kakuzu to turn back away, grabbing some oven mitts. "And I assure you, this room is _not_ going to be a suite; I can't afford another expensive room with these damage expenses."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Hidan grumbled, steadying himself as he stood up again. "We're getting the cheapest room available, and I'm sleeping on the damn floor while you get the only bed. I know the fucking routine."

Walking across the room slowly, weakly, Hidan collapsed into a chair at the dining room table. Kakuzu pulled the steak from the oven, placing it on the counter, and cutting it into servings. As he came to the table with the plates, he gave a sort of dismissive shrug to Hidan's comment. "Most likely you'll be getting the bed." He replied, in a lightly dark tone. "What with the fact that you can barely walk right now."

"Then where the hell are you going to sleep?" Hidan drawled, though his full attention was on dinner now. He snatched up his plate and ate eagerly, forgetting completely about the plate of edamame. As he ate, Kakuzu picked at his own food, mumbling under his breath.

"Oh, I'll manage, someway or another…"

~End Chapter 4~


	5. Chapter 5

Authoress' Note: Smex plz? Still don't own

Also, before I forget: the credit for Jashin's prayer goes to Imperator-Antea, who has allowed me to use it for the purposes of my story ^-^ Find her at .com

Chapter 5

There is an exact definition to insanity, if one can believe it: to do the same thing over and over again, and expect a different result each time. And in this way, insanity defined Hidan's life in its repetition. Thus, Hidan was at terms and peace with his own instability.

But the funny thing about living in insanity is that if it is done for so long, it becomes part of the regular schedule, the average workings of a man. Hidan's insanity worked like clockwork, keeping him moving, keeping him living. The death, the bloodshed, the rituals made him feel complete, ALIVE. And once Kakuzu removed those things was when Hidan really did lose it.

Now, Hidan could feel it picking at his mind; this feeling, this foreign feeling, like something eating away at his very being. It made him wriggle, writhe, made him feel as though something was missing. The worst part was that he did not know what it was. He only knew that he did not like it one bit. Human emotion and feeling were too frightening for someone like him…

* * *

/_**Are you going to do it or not?**_/

"I'm getting there. Stop hassling me."

/_**This is the last night**_/

"I know."

/**So?**/

"So what?"

/_**Will you obey me or not?**_/

"…"

/_**Kakuzu.**_/

Yeah, I'm still fucking here, you bastard.

It took a deep gritting of his teeth and all the restraint Kakuzu had to not say the last comment aloud. Hidan slept peacefully on the only bed in the room behind Kakuzu. Kakuzu had been sleeping the past few days as comfortably as anyone can on a living room armchair. His nights had been restless enough already when Pein had begun to pester him, more and more often. Now, Kakuzu was so far into a point of irritation that his mental vocabulary had become equivalent to that of Hidan's. He would need another week of rest to recover after this.

/_**KAKUZU.**_/

"What?" he grumbled lowly, massaging gently on his temple. He heard the sound of Hidan stirring in his bed, a mild, discontent groan. He was going to wake up soon. Things had been so quiet, all this time alone with Hidan had made Kakuzu in tune to most of the ways the immortal worked, how he ticked; just knowing he had developed these habits made Kakuzu sick "I need to go soon." He said, deciding to use his new awareness as a tool. "Hidan's waking up, and he's going to want to eat. I need to go."

/_**I'll remind you again, Kakuzu; this is your last night. If you do no comply with my demands tonight, I will consider it to be insubordination**_./

"Right, I get it." Kakuzu growled, and felt Pein's presence slip away. With a heavy sigh, he slumped back in the armchair, and slowly began to count down to the inevitable whining. Ten – he pushed back his hair, out of his face. Nine – slowly, he exhaled. Eight – he readjusted himself where he sat. Seven – he began to push himself up. Six – he got out of the chair. Five – he walked across the room. Four – he entered the kitchen. Three – He pulled out the last of the leftover steak. Two – he put it on a plate. One – he put it in the microwave. Zero –

"Kakuzu! I'm fuckin' hungry!"

"I'm heating up lunch now." Kakuzu sighed, starting up the microwave. "Eat your soy beans, and drink your orange juice."

"Yeah, yeah, doin' that now."

At least the zealot was feeling better. It made things easier, for the most part. Kakuzu's care had brought him quickly to recovery. When Kakuzu ran errands, instead of lying around, he would pace the hotel room like a trapped animal, forbidden by Kakuzu to perform his rituals. Kakuzu came back many a time to find Hidan like that, striding from one end of the living room to the other, his scythe-holding arm trembling. The scythe was safe back at the Akatsuki hideout, or so Hidan was told. In actuality, Kakuzu was constantly changing its hiding spots, so he would not find it. Currently, it was on the top shelf of the closet, stashed behind his and Hidan's suitcases. Tomorrow he would give it back to the man as they were leaving, and after everything was packed and ready. Until then, Kakuzu was content with this system.

Putting a minute-and-a-half on the timer, Kakuzu started up the microwave, hearing the meat sizzle as it cooked. He made himself a sandwich, starting to get sick of the deli lunches he'd been having to sacrifice for Hidan's iron- and protein-rich meals.

The microwave gave a long, loud screech, signaling that Hidan's meal was done. Hidan heard it as well, immediately letting out a whine of demanding. "I'm so fucking hungry, Kakuzu! Is that ready?"

"Bringing it to you now." Kakuzu growled, pulling out the plate, his rough skin barely reacting to the sharp, burning pain. The meat was secreting juice, cooked to a wet, brown color. He had cooked it a bit too long. Hoping Hidan would say nothing, he carried his plate, Hidan's plate, and their utensils to Hidan's bedside, placing them on the side table. Without a word, he sat on the empty side of the bed, picking up his sandwich and biting into it hungrily. With the steak knife, Hidan poked at his own lunch distastefully, and then glanced at Kakuzu with a look of disappointment. "You overcooked it." He pointed out, dully stating the obvious. Kakuzu rolled his eyes, swallowing down his bite of turkey and bread.

"There was only a little bit, I didn't think to decrease the time. At least I didn't burn it, so stop complaining. It's not like it's inedible." Kakuzu's voice was calm, but he felt like he was going to snap. Since he had begun to feel better, Hidan had also returned to whining about every little thing Kakuzu did wrong, apparently having no grace for the fact that he was the one who had nurtured him back to health the past several days. Rather, he was now eyeing the knife in his hands with a sense of sick curiosity, one delicate, pale finger running along the edge. Kakuzu snatched the utensil from him, drawing forth a scowl on the albino's face. Ignoring it, Kakuzu began slicing the other man's meat for him. "I've juts barely gotten you back to good health; no rituals yet."

"I haven't done one in fucking ages!" howled Hidan, in a pitiful tone of misery. "Fuck, if Jashin smites me tomorrow, hope you feel fucking guilty, you heathen piece of shit!"

"Need I really remind you Hidan?" Kakuzu said, with impatience. "You're immortal, and I doubt there will be 'smiting' of any sort. Shut up and eat your steak."

Without another word, Hidan complied, though there was obvious unease in his eyes. He went unnaturally quiet, pulling the bed sheets round his shoulders. In between bites, his fingers went to his mouth in a repetitive action, tongue briefly running along the tip before the digit pulled away. It only took a couple times of this before Kakuzu noticed, and outstretched a hand in a beckoning motion. Hidan withdrew quickly, like a child.

"Let me see."

"Fuck, Kakuzu, it's nothing!"

"I said LET ME SEE."

A moment's hesitation overtook the Jashinist before he willingly – but slowly – gave his hand to the miser. Kakuzu inspected it carefully for a minute before finally finding what he was looking for; a small cut from the steak knife, barely noticeable. But these days, Hidan could hide nothing from the older man; this had become nothing more than another factor of Kakuzu's years of experience, almost another sense.

Again, Kakuzu hated it. But that was not the main focus at the moment.

"This is going to get infected." He said coldly, with impatience. Hidan had no time to reply with little more than a yelp as Kakuzu stood up, bringing his teammate to his feet as well, and dragged him to the bathroom, ignoring the other's protests and expletives.

Kakuzu took the finger, thrusting it under the water tap, and wrenching on the cold water. He heard a responding loud hiss from Hidan, and kept going, sensing that the man was no longer going to fight back. Rather, he now seemed incredibly cooperative, and quiet as well, as Kakuzu cleaned the wound with soap. His body gave a small jerk, hand trembling in Kakuzu's grip. Kakuzu looked to Hidan discreetly, shaking his head.

"You're sick in the head. You're aware of this, correct?"

"Can't help it." groaned Hidan, giving another jerk, and a pleasured hiss. "Hurts so fuckin' good, I haven't felt like this in awhile."

The Jashinist was incredibly sensitive, Kakuzu noted. The way he could tune himself in so acutely to the minor stinging pain; it was actually rather interesting. Kakuzu again felt an overwhelming sense of curiosity. He hated admitting it, but the silver-haired man was an endless source of observation and interest. The way he reacted, the way he ENJOYED these feelings. And the envy Kakuzu could sometimes see in his eyes when he killed…

It was like the first night of that bet, that moment in Hidan's room. All had gone quiet, the only motion being Kakuzu's hands, and Hidan's quiet, soft trembling and twitches. Kakuzu grabbed the hand towel, drying himself, then Hidan. When he got to the cut, he moved with softer strokes, not because of any particular care for the man, but because he did not want to irritate the cut, allowing it to get infected. When he was done, he felt this strange sense, like there was something else he needed to do. When he could not think of it, he released Hidan's hand reluctantly. Hidan had the same look in his eyes, of the same sort of feeling in post-effect. How interesting, thought Kakuzu, wanting to take his mind off of that particular feeling. He walked back to his lunch, the knife still laying next to his plate, Hidan's meat only half cut, and growing cold as it lay there, open and exposed. Hidan sat in his bed, curling back into the covers and neglecting it. Kakuzu moved to his side, sitting on the small line of the mattress available, cutting the meat into more pieces, despite the fact that as it had gone cold, it had also become tough. Taking a piece, he held it out towards Hidan's mouth, but Hidan declined, shaking his head.

"Not fuckin' hungry anymore." He muttered, eyes transfixed on some point away from Kakuzu, to the left, dropping the fork, Kakuzu sighed, looking at the waste of food, and then back to Hidan, at a loss as to what to do now. There seemed to be a new awkwardness after the previous moment, to which Kakuzu had no available resolution. He could only move back to the other side of the bed, returning to his sandwich, the knife still in hand. Both stayed completely silent, a thick calm that was finally broken by Hidan.

"You're not gonna fuckin' leave this time?" He was looking back to the ceiling when he said it, making it hard for Kakuzu to read how he felt by the look on his face. His voice was cynical and angry, a distinct change from how he had been acting earlier. It was not that this was odd for Hidan; Hidan's instability often resulted in rapid changes of mood. But there was something artificial about this, something cold and fake. It was not in Hidan's personality to be like that. Something was wrong. And as much as Kakuzu liked to pretend he did not care, he was in questioning over it.

"You don't want me to leave, do you?" It was more of a statement than a question. Kakuzu laid back in the bed, against propped-up pillows, setting his plate to rest on the bedside table. Hidan fidgeted restlessly, looking further away.

"Well… no. I mean, fuck, ever since I was a kid; I hate being fucking alone. It gets so damn boring, that SILENCE, shit, man…"

"You're very interesting, you know…"

In the time it took for Hidan to snap his head and look at Kakuzu, Kakuzu's stomach had already sunken in regret; he had spoken without thinking, without any consideration over where he had been going with it. Physically, he stayed composed, while mentally he collapsed. That had sounded stupid, so absolutely stupid, and he knew it. What to say to save himself?

"… shit, Kakuzu, that's gotta be the first fuckin' nice thing you've ever really said to me."

Kakuzu restrained himself from returning Hidan's surprised stare, disguising his shock as casual questioning. "Is it?" he muttered quietly. "Hm. I suppose you're right."

"Are we the only team that doesn't usually fucking get along?" As he spoke, Hidan began to extricate himself from his blankets and sheets, his stare returning to Kakuzu. Kakuzu paused before answering, though he could not think of the reason why needed to. It was almost as if there was this newfound hesitance between the two men, one which was inexplicable, and unable to be linked to how open they suddenly were with each other. If anything, it seemed like the awkwardness stemmed from the new connection. Like Kakuzu felt he shouldn't say it, at risk of such.

"Tobi and Deidara don't." he began, starting vaguely. Hidan only shrugged at him defensively, and shot and odd look, seemingly suspicious.

"They still fight together pretty fuckin' well." He answered in his drawling tone. "But what the hell's up with that shit, Kakuzu? Beatin' around the fuckin' bush like that. Not fuckin' like you."

"You're right, it's not." Kakuzu replied, tone dropping to a bitter growl. He sunk farther into his pillow, glaring ahead at the wall. He could feel Hidan draw back from his spot on the bed, recoiling instinctively from the rage that could sometimes result in limbs being detached. There was, however, no need for him to worry in this case. Kakuzu's annoyance was with himself, and not with the immortal, for once. Sensing that he himself was at no sort of risk, Hidan leaned back forward, closer to Kakuzu. Then, when he received no sort of response, he waved his hand on front of Kakuzu's face, staring into the blank red-and-green eyes. The glowing eyes shifted to their corners to glare at Hidan.

"Hidan, even if I AM being oddly hospitable today, that does not mean I won't cut of your hand if it offends me."

"Aw, come on, Kakuzu!" Hidan grumbled, but not moving the limb. "I'm not even fuckin' touching you! How the hell is this fuckin' offensive?" He gave his hand another shake, in example.

"It's in my face, and it is disturbing my peace. It's offensive."

"Fuck, Kakuzu, everything in the damn world would've been fuckin' offensive at one damn point or another if you went under that shitty logic." At this point, Hidan's action began to be performed more to taunt than to make any point. His hand continued to wave in Kakuzu's face, in a wanton fashion, like a child waving a bone inches from a restrained dog's face, inches from its reach; knowing perfectly well that if the chain snapped, the fun would end.

With an unheard crack, the weakest link shattered.

Quick reflexes and unconscious action made it easy for Kakuzu to quickly snatch Hidan's hand, twisting it away from his face. In the follow-up of the action, Hidan's resistance crumbled from nothing more than pure shock, as Kakuzu's hands slammed his hand against his shoulder, his shoulders against the headboard of the bed. Kakuzu's legs straddled the body of the man, pinning him down, and Hidan froze under the cold stare; blank, a stare that looked straight through the other man. Kakuzu's lips curled back, the stitches holding the sides of his mouth closed stretching in the motion, an angry scowl that looked like a sick, sadistic grin.

"I suggest you listen closely to what I have to say next time." He growled with rage, but his mood was already starting to settle. He looked over Hidan's apprehensive face, the events from the beginning of the week flooding back into his mind. Now he remembered why he loved doing this; the illusion of control. That look was as close to fear as Hidan could ever get, as close to fearing for his life as an immortal could be.

Yes, this was how he could do it; a solution at last.

Kakuzu could feel Hidan trembling from beneath him, and took a moment to enjoy that feeling, committing it to memory, to strategy. The way Kakuzu had his hand pinned, making him immobile. After making sure he had all of this imprinted in his mind, he got off of the immortal, calmly sitting back on his side of the bed. He heaved a sigh, relaxing, settling, thinking. After a moment of that, he looked to Hidan from the corner of his eye, letting concern mask his expression once again.

"Sorry." He said apologetically, putting as much regret into his tone as he could muster while still keeping his chilly tone. "Just snapped a little bit there, that's all." He looked away as Hidan watched him warily, like a dumb beast that had just been stricken. It took the zealot another moment of silence before he pardoned Kakuzu, mumbling quietly. Out of the corner of his eye, Kakuzu saw Hidan grip the sheets tightly, nervously. He could sense the change as well, even if he did not fully comprehend what it meant for both Kakuzu and himself.

* * *

_Hail Jashin, full of glory…_

Hidan's hands twitched to shape the grip of his scythe, the grip of his pike, the grip on the handle of the knife. He grit his teeth in frustration, tightened his jaw in fear. He didn't know what was happening anymore, and in his spiritual absence, Jashin seemed too far away. He came no more when the insanity ceased, when the bloodshed was gone.

… _the Power is with Thee ;_

He felt trapped, lost. Where was that thrill, that power? No longer had he felt a release of pain, a blade letting loose everything he felt within. Every night, he pleaded not only for Jashin's forgiveness, but for some redemptive freedom, some satisfied feeling of everything else just going away. And he only wanted this because he was feeling so much.

_Wicked hope in this ocean of blood..._

With a desperate attempt, he sunk his teeth into the pale flesh of his arm, the canines digging in, but not yet piercing skin and vessels. He ground them in until he could taste blood, its metallic taste spreading on his tongue. Like he taste of the meat Kakuzu had been cooking for him, bitter-tinged like the taste of the orange juice. Like the taste of it passing between lips…

… _and wicked is the fruit of thy fiendish heart._

Never had Hidan had any proper means of expression. His expression was in the killing, in the War. And when the War had gone and passed, his expression was in Jashinism. He used it as a channel to express anger, when he killed; fear, when he prayed; happiness, when he gave his praise; sadness, when he gave his rituals. Without his religion, Hidan did not know what to do.

But even with it, he would not know how to handle this. These haunted thoughts, this crazed apprehension, this unfulfilled expectation. He wasn't sure of the name. He thought, perhaps, it was what they called lust. It had to be; the only other word he knew for it was infatuation – LOVE.

_Lord Jashin, Destroyer of the Creation…_

It was impossible, he assured himself. The only absolute was Jashin, not feelings such as these, so questionable and vague. How did the saying go again? 'Only three things in life are for sure: Death, taxes, and…'

And…

He could not think of the last part to it, and honestly could not understand the second. It made him think too much of Kakuzu, and his preaching of how absolute his money was, his material possessions. And all Hidan really believed in was death, in the absolute of his sacrifices, his rituals. The narrow-mindedness of his life's expression. The limited answers he had been receiving recently.

No, no, this was a cycle of influence; the influence of Kakuzu's heathen ways, his disbelief. Hidan would not give in.

… _slay for us sinners, now in this hour of death._

The insanity broke, and Hidan with it. Why did it feel so much like this was the end? Kakuzu was lingering outside his door, hesitating in coming in. Daylight was fading into dark. Hidan's eyes were falling closed. And time felt like it had begun slipping away, taking Kakuzu and Hidan with it.

_Amen…_

* * *

Light had left the sky hours ago, and Hidan was fast asleep. Kakuzu was entirely sure of it. One hand rested on the doorway, the other on the knob. There it was again; hesitance. A hesitance he had no way of controlling anymore. But he had to try, despite it. Deep breaths, turn the knob…

A click of the door signaled to Kakuzu that the physical barrier had gone. The only thing stopping him now was his own resistance to the situation. No, he had had all of this figured out, he told himself insistently, urgently. No stopping now. For the mission; for the money. For juts about everything besides Kakuzu's own thoughts and feelings upon this, feelings that he didn't even full comprehend, wasn't even sure of having them, whatever they were.

With an unsteady step, he crossed the threshold.

Hidan lay on the bed, his arms sprawled out at his sides. The moonlight shone in through the window, casting an eerie glow over the immortal's ivory skin and silver hair, falling form its place in tresses. The way he slept was fitful, without ever resting for more than twenty-minute intervals. Right now, he was at rest, his arms sprawled out at the sides of his head. The perfect white of the pillow he rested on was stained by crimson drops of blood, and the healing remainders of a bite mark blemished his skin. Heaving a sigh, Kakuzu dropped at the man's side, on what little space there was on the other side of the bed. He ran his hand over the disappearing wound tenderly, as gentle as he could. He didn't want to start until it had healed, fearing that otherwise, Hidan would be afflicted again by blood loss. At least Hidan had waited for the last night before spilling his own blood again.

When the wound healed finally, Kakuzu drew in a deep breath. He knew he was going to do this. He knew what he would do, he knew how he would perform it. It was getting to the actual task that still bothered him greatly.

Starting small, Kakuzu kept his caress over Hidan's arms, fingers trailing slowly over the skin, dragging like thick cloth over velvet. The hand moved up, over a muscled shoulder, onto Hidan's chest, unclothed as usual. God, but he was a heavy sleeper. Kakuzu had hoped on the zealot waking up by this point. He held his patience between clenched teeth as his hand massaged roughly, exploring every inch and line of the other's body, trying to stir up some sort of arousal, whether it be in himself or Hidan.

In his sleep, Hidan moaned, though it was a soft and quiet. Kakuzu paused, freezing, simply in a knee-jerk reaction with his hand caught in the proverbial 'cookie jar'. It was only when he remembered that he wanted to be caught that he continued. It was becoming harder to keep his hand on Hidan, however, as the man became restless again in his sleep. He moaned, he sighed, he tossed and turned. Kakuzu felt the moisture of a sheen sweat in the back of his neck as he moved his hands lower, dragging his fingernails across the pale skin. An irritated red blushed over in jagged lines, nothing broken yet, only scratched. At last, a reaction, Kakuzu thought to himself with a sigh. The release of kept-violence created a heated feeling from within, like a stir. Hidan too arched up slightly, letting out a strange, strangled noise of… content?

"Uhn… hn.. wh-what in the… ?"

There. Kakuzu watched as his eyelids fluttered open. Hm, odd. Hidan was usually more inclined to snap them open when he was disturbed from his rest. Now, Kakuzu looked over glazed pink irises, slow to take in what was before them. Granted, Kakuzu did not give them much time. Almost as soon as Hidan began to awake, his nails dug into the pale skin stretched over a bony hip. Hidan jerked, letting out a choked gasp of shock.

"K-Kakuzu?" he blinked blearily, and then squeezed his eyes shut in wince as his body twisted to the touch of Kakuzu's other hand. "F-Fuck… w-wha… what the hell…"

"Shut up." Kakuzu growled, not wanting too many questions asked. This was going to take long enough on its own with Hidan going at a million words a minute about it. "And stay still. I'm nowhere near done – I've barely even started."

He had such rough hands, Kakuzu realized. His skin felt like sandpaper compared to Hidan's, unmarred despite the number of battle wounds he'd received in the past. Not even the texture of silk could not compare to the warmth that throbbed below, in the blood held by this tight, mortal shield stretched over such a delicate-looking frame. Delicate; Hidan had never looked as such before. But now, as Hidan fought and failed to push away the other man, Kakuzu could think of no other words to describe him.

"Nn… what the shit, Kakuzu!" Hidan whined, his hands twisting and pulling to get Kakuzu's off of the curves of his hips. It was futile; Kakuzu had moved atop him, resting almost all of his weight. "Th-this is so… f-fuckin'… a~aahh…"

"This doesn't feel good, Hidan?" Kakuzu kept his voice low, saying anything that came to his mind that sounded appropriate to the situation. Keeping his fingernails arched, he dragged his fingers in, to the middle of Hidan's pelvis, just barely above the hem of his pants. "What's wrong? Like you've never been touched like this before."

"F-Fuck…" was all Hidan whimpered, trailing off. He looked away from Kakuzu, the grip on his wrists going limp suddenly. He trembled a bit, and Kakuzu paused. He looked to Hidan's face, his eyelids crushed shut, and it felt like a cold weight dropped in his stomach.

He should have known. He should have fucking known that from that incident with the orange juice. Hidan was a virgin. Like he would have ever had time for a sexual partner, what with his obsession with his religion and violence. Kakuzu was stupid to not have thought of that. Hidan was completely unexposed to experiences such as these.

Kakuzu suddenly felt low, like he was doing something completely vile. He fought back the guilt, pushed it to the side the best he could. It was either this, or he would deal with Pain. And Kakuzu had grown rather attached to living in the ninety-one years of his life. His red-and-green eyes shifted to look away from Hidan's, and he dropped his head down to the immortal's stomach. His hand began working at the obi of the Jashinist's pants, while he ran his tongue over the marks from his nails. Hidan hissed at the sting of the salt in the man's saliva on the irritated skin, arching up towards it involuntarily. When at last Kakuzu untangled Hidan's waist from the white cloth of its belt, Hidan's hands moved up, jerking at the older man's hair. Snarling in pain, Kakuzu shot back up, pinning Hidan by the shoulders. "I thought I told you to lie still!"

"What the fuck are you doing?! What is this shit?!" Hidan's voice was a bit high, almost panicked, one could say. Kakuzu kept his gaze locked, kept Hidan pinned. His lips were a flat line, closed completely in a look of deep annoyance. He would not answer, Hidan knew. But his pinkish eyes, those eyes as light as the dawn that would break in a few hours, had an almost pleading look to them. They demanded answers Kakuzu could not give. Unable to bear them any longer, Kakuzu leaned down, placing his lips over them, making them close again, feeling the eyelids flicker. Then his mouth moved down the Hidan's his tongue demanding entrance. With a soft moan of shock, Hidan's resistance broke down, while his body tensed. Whatever this was, he knew; it was out of his control right now.

The inside of Kakuzu's mouth felt strange; he could feel the rough texture of his stitches from inside the wet cavern, grinding against Hidan's tongue that forced it's way past Kakuzu's. He was reacting on instinct, hoping that by matching Kakuzu's actions, this would all begin to make sense. His concentration took a leave from him, however, as Kakuzu's hand slipped under the hem of his pants, grabbing onto his semi-erect organ. Then, everything washed away in a wave of adrenaline, of lust; of desire.

"Ha~aaa!" Hidan exhaled in a groan, thrusting forward into Kakuzu's grip. Big hands, strong hands; rough hands that felt strange, but right when they held him. Hidan fought back against that thought, though his body reacted otherwise. While one of Kakuzu's hands kept a tight hold round the back of Hidan's neck, the other hand stroked down the length of Hidan's hardening erection. Hidan wrapped his arms round Kakuzu impulsively, fingernails digging into the scarred and stitched back. His breath came in gasps mixed with moans, exhaled into the lobe of Kakuzu's ear as Kakuzu slowly attacked the zealot's neck, biting onto it and finally drawing blood. "Hn... 'k-kuzu... 'kuzu~uuuu..."

Kakuzu froze again, his mouth sucking harshly onto the other man's neck. 'Kuzu'? It sounded like a pet name, the way it was drawn out, long and slow from the mans' lip. Sweet, begging - it seemed to make this whole thing more... authentic. And though Kakuzu was unsure of whether this was a good or bad thing, he begun slowly, but heavily pumping the other man, just to hear it again.

The reaction was immediate. Hidan let out noises of enjoyment, moving his hips with Kakuzu's hand. Kakuzu drew back only slightly, and then pulled Hidan up with him, so that he was sitting between Kakuzu's legs, clinging onto him. He could not see Hidan's face, but could hear the harsh panting in his ear, the noises that lingered somewhere between distress and pleasure. Hidan's voice took on a new tone, becoming slightly more high-pitched than usual. He seemed ready to come, and Kakuzu was barely stiff. This was going nowhere fast, Kakuzu thought bitterly, and would make the coming task more difficult than it already was. He needed to fix this 'problem' quickly.

For the moment, Kakuzu took all his attention away from Hidan, pulling his hand out from the man's pants. Big mistake, apparently. A death grip clawed into Kakuzu's back, making him flinch. He could feel blood dripping down his back in small streaks. Hidan gave a quiet, but dangerous growl, scratchy in his throat as he gasped for breath. "Don't you fuckin' do that!" he groaned out. His face drew back, his eyes staring directly into Kakuzu's. Kakuzu fought to remain unblinking in the face of those eyes, those eyes that always seemed to contain so many emotions at once. "Don't do that." he repeated weakly, his voice going hoarse, brow still furrowed. This man, always so filled with rage, always so angry at the things he could not understand. His nails continued to dig into Kakuzu's skin, his grip starting to become shaky. "If you're gonna start it, fuckin' finish it! I don't know what the hell you're doing, but I swear to fuckin' Jashin, you just leave me like this, leave me hanging, I'll fuckin' kill you! Seriously, Kakuzu, no shit's worse than just ENDING something like that! Are you fuckin' listening to me!?"

"You talk too damn much."

Hidan was too late to react, too late to save himself when he heard the danger in Kakuzu's voice. Kakuzu shoved him off, slamming him back down onto the mattress, sitting up, back supported against the headboard. Holding him steady, Kakuzu leered in close, his face inches from the immortal's. "And trust me, Hidan, I'll 'fuckin' finish it'." he hissed. "But first, you need to help me out a bit, understand?"

With barely a minute's pause, Kakuzu adjusted his position, straddling over Hidan's chest, and brought his hands down to undo the cloth of his obi. When that was gone, he laid atop Hidan, wriggling out of his pants, and then slowly sat back up. Hidan could not help but stare at Kakuzu's exposed flesh, eyes going wide. It was too much for him, too rushed. Yet, again, there was not much choice for Kakuzu in the matter, and thus no choice for Hidan. "Suck." he commanded, bringing his legs over Hidan's shoulders, and jerking the silver-haired man's head towards his groin. Hidan had only a moment to try and resist before Kakuzu thrust into his mouth.

As soon as Kakuzu was fully engulfed, he let out a shaky gasp, throwing back his head. His eyes almost lit up from the sensation, the feeling of finally gaining some satisfaction. And hell, was Hidan giving it to him. The other man was at a borderline state where he was hesitant, yet unresisting. Kakuzu let out a low growl of pleasure as Hidan's tongue moved around his cock in ways that made shiver run up his spine. A strong hand clutched at the back of Hidan's head, holding a fistful of silver hair. Hunching over, Kakuzu's head hit against the wall, resting there while his other hand scratched at the pain, scrabbling for some kind of grip. "Ngh... you're sure you haven't done this before?" Kakuzu panted, moving in and out slowly. Hidan moaned in response, the vibration moving down Kakuzu's entire length. Kakuzu inhaled quickly, body jerking at the sensation, eyes rolling into the back of his head. "A~aahn... f-fuckin' do that again..."

With hesitance this time, Hidan complied, hand coming up to grip Kakuzu's thighs. The extra pressure made Kakuzu give a heavy thrust forward, deep-throating the zealot, nearly making him choke. Kakuzu was rock-hard now, and because of it, his patience was slipping away quickly. With a tug on Hidan's hair, he made the zealot pull away, removing himself from his mouth. Saliva trickled from the corner of the man's mouth, dripping down his chin as he panted heavily. Kakuzu's cock was slicked with spit and pre-cum. It was the most lubrication Hidan was going to get, and Kakuzu currently did not have enough patience for preparation. A shaking hand slid over Hidan's pale thigh, over the smooth inner curves. A sharp nail punctured the tender, rarely exposed skin, making Hidan give another deep moan, his hips jerking impatiently. Kakuzu tried his best to keep eye contact now, at least remain looking up, when he wanted to look at the crimson red staining the sickly white of Hidan's skin. The wound on his neck had already begun to heal, barely showing any signs of damage now, to Kakuzu's disappointment.. His pain currently was Kakuzu's drive and motivation. The more he felt, the more Kakuzu felt. Every hiss of pain, every tortured moan, every tiny twitch and thrust induced by the hurt Kakuzu inflicted. As much as Kakuzu hated Hidan, he could not deny it; he was turned on by all of it. Though it was not intended, there was a seductive tone to the way Hidan's body twisted, almost desperate to get closer to Kakuzu's touch, to the pain he supplied. And it was only going to get worse.

At least Hidan was cooperative, Kakuzu thought gratefully, as he flipped the man onto his back, spreading his legs wide, and receiving no resistance. Flexible too. For a moment, he just kneeled there like that, watching Hidan lie there, arms tucked at his side, his head twisted back, trying to look at him. He looked... frail. Unbelievably so, like Kakuzu would break him if he kept doing this. Scared as well, like that first day of the bet. And yet, he was panting eagerly, his eyes shut tight, murmuring at Kakuzu again not to stop. Either he didn't know how painful this was going to be, or he was looking forward to it. His cock twitched in excitement as Kakuzu laid down, placing the head of his own erection at Hidan's entrance, already anticipating how tight the ring of muscle would be. 'This is going to hurt." he growled in Hidan's ear, feeling the man should have fair warning. "But trust me, I'll loosen you up real quick..."

Hidan was past verbal responses now, only giving a whine of anticipation, that ended in a whimper as Kakuzu braced the man's hips, pushing forward. A grunt escaped Kakuzu's lips as his head penetrated Hidan, the wall squeezing around him. Hidan cried out, nearly screaming, muffled by the pillow.

"Sh-sh-shit, Kakuzu!" he stuttered, a whimper hanging in the back of his throat. "A-aahh... t-too damn... nnh... much... no... stop... 'k-'kuzu!"

"A bit late for that... hrn... Hidan..." grunted Kakuzu, pushing forward a little more. As he spread Hidan further, Hidan flinched, letting out a longer cry. Kakuzu moaned, pulling out and thrusting in again, going a little deeper. "But fuck, Hidan... nngh... you're so.. hn... goddamn.... a-aahhhh..." Kakuzu let out a carnal moan as he was finally fully inside of the Jashinist. Hidan let out a muffled noise, like a sob. "So goddamn tight!"

Starting slow, Kakuzu began with consistent thrusts, removing and sheathing his cock inside of Hidan with a rhythm. Hidan's hands gripped tightly at the bedsheets, as he panted in time with the older man's thrusts inward, every pant layered with a high-pitched moan. He was speaking low under his breath, urging, muttering, whining. "Hurts." he whimpered, scratching and gripping at the headboard. Kakuzu gave a grunt of disregard, bringing his hands up around Hidan's torso. One hand went to Hidan's nipple, toying with it roughly, swirling it round, making Hidan cry out again, burying his face into the pillow. Kakuzu brought up his other hand, pulling at Hidan's hair, pulling his head up forcefully. His pace sped up, hammering into Hidan with considerable force. "Make you loose as a fuckin' whore." he moaned, pinching the hardened nipple now, pulling at it. Hidan continued whining, until Kakuzu gave a particularly deep thrust forward, hitting his prostate. Suddenly, Hidan screamed, throwing his head back. "_AAH, FUCK_!" he cried out. "_'kuzu, 'kuzu! Again, ahn, again, fuckin' - a~aaahn! - f-fuckin' do that again_!"

Oh, God, Kakuzu actually liked this noise. Hidan was talking again, but it was dirty, excited. Both of them were hard as hell, and close to coming, Hidan especially. He was practically screaming for more contact of some sort, more friction. Nearing his limit, and feeling that Hidan was close to his, Kakuzu moved his hands down the front of Hidan's body, onto the other's erection. Hidan let out a slow, drawn-out moan as Kakuzu slowed his pace for a minute before continuing, pumping the Jashinist in time with every thrust. He knew, if he could see the man's eyes now, he would see the loss of control, the animalistic urge. If Hidan was not crazy enough as it was, Kakuzu was driving him in that direction. He was crying out Kakuzu's name, never even complaining about the sting of the pulling at his hair that came with each movement forward, each time Kakuzu's cock hit the sensitive prostate, sending a thrill of feeling up his spine. At last, it became too much. Hidan could no longer hold back as he gave a rough thrust forward, letting out a despaired cry as he came into Kakuzu's hand, hot and hard. His inner muscles squeezed tight around Kakuzu's cock. Kakuzu grit his teeth, holding back for a minute more, giving one last full thrust, and finally coming inside of the zealot. His ministrations continued solidly, weakening, until he completely emptied himself into the other man. Wearily, he collapsed, releasing his hold on Hidan, his head dropping onto the shoulder blades of the man's back. After a minute of rest and deep breaths, Kakuzu pulled himself out of Hidan, rolling onto his back. Hidan lay, exposed, gripping tightly onto his pillow, eyes staring blankly into the distance. With a long look to him, Kakuzu rolled onto his side, wiping his hand of Hidan's semen. He ran a hand along Hidan's backside, feeling Hidan flinch discreetly. Kakuzu's seed was reddish, mixed with Hidan's blood, damage from the rough penetration. Again, Kakuzu flopped back onto his back, staring at the ceiling, trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened.

He felt sweaty, dirty, disgusting, and Hidan was dead to the world next to him, trembling from how cold he was in this exposed state. Getting out of bed, Kakuzu wrapped the sheets tight around the zealot's body. His lips lingered for a minute above Hidan's cheek, hesitating. But after a minute's consideration, he pulled away, shaking his head, walking a straight path to the showed. Hidan made no attempt to follow, nor an attempt to make Kakuzu stay. Good. Kakuzu needed time to himself right now, time to think.

With a heavy wrenching, Kakuzu turned on the hot water, then a small twist of cold. As he waited for the water to warm up all the way, he could feel the steam forming, creating a misty shield almost, around his naked, shivering body. He stepped into the tile shower, putting his head under the stream of water, letting it wash away the substance on his hands. Then, finally, with shaky legs, he allowed himself to collapse to the shower floor with a sense of heavy fatigue. The water drops pattered around his ears, around the lines of his body. The satisfaction he had felt at the beginning had completely disappeared when everything was said and done. And the voice he was hearing were not his own…

/_**So in the end, you choose to obey. I will put your payment in your room this moment. Is there anything else you wish for as a reward, Kakuzu?**_/

Pain sounded patient this time, like he had all of the time in the world. Kakuzu's fingers twitched under the drops of water hitting them, his eyes staring into the distance with an unblinking look of despair, an emotion never seen on the man's face before. When he spoke, it was barely in a whisper of his throaty voice, in his usual growling tone.

"I want things to go back to normal again… just, want this to be forgotten…"

* * *

Insanity was a word that could define many things, many situations. It could define Hidan's rituals. It could define Kakuzu's faith in money, no matter the economy. It could define Hidan's constant search for someone just as immortal as he, that would not disappear like all the other's had. It could even define Kakuzu's killing intent, this need to try and control an entire world.

But right now, insanity had opened to a new level, a new experience. Only insanity could explain what was going on in Kakuzu's mind, in Hidan's very core of being. Only insanity could be the name of this path they were about to walk.

Because there is no cure to insanity; there is only replacement of a new brand of such cycles. And Hidan and Kakuzu had both replaced each other's.

~End Chapter 5~


	6. Lullaby: Intermission

Authoress' Note: Part 1 of the story has gone and passed. An intermission, to occupy your time…

Okay, this chapter looks MUCH better if you download on my dA page! -_-; if you have the time, follow the link on my profile and read it!

And also? Don't own!

Intermission: Lullaby

Things were too quiet for Hidan's ears, and everything was too dark to see. The lights were off, the people were gone, and he was alone. Alone in the broken sanctity of his own self, his own body. Alone in the feeling of not knowing something, of being lost even within himself.

/_Lizard's tail, dew in the night Halta de manna, cinca de manna, horahoraho_

_Silent night, Sunlight Horto prier, blos d'ita_

_A drop of mermaid's tear… Omna magni…_/

He could hear the music playing, hear it echoing in his head. Like a song from his childhood, come back to haunt his dreams. But he knew that it as no such thing. His mother sang no lullabies to him as a child, her only words for him being words of hatred. The only lullaby he'd ever received was the screaming that put him to sleep every night of the war.

/_The shadow of dead people Crietro, strientropo, horahoraho_

_The pain of living people… Altinique, ortono, floen d'ermanita…_/

Hidan was an emotional man. He was a sensitive man. He was a man infected with insanity, who had all this feeling, all this emotion, and little way to express it. He was safe in his own world, in his religion. He was a man broken from what he was accustomed to.

He had screamed, and no one had listened. Because he had tried to deny that he didn't want it, and had only succeeded in hurting his confused state further. He had tried to scream, and no one helped. And he tried to cry, only to find he could not. He never did. It would only have hurt his pride.

/_The joy of darkness Aiho dertameno hiha_

_The madness of light Miha trava lafladitu_

_Let us become one Aiho dertameno hiha_

_Let's engulf ourselves in a beautiful lace… Plient, plient, plientu hora…_/

The virgin sacrifice; an unnecessary, pointless thing to Jashinism. To break someone with no sin, someone so devout, was itself considered a sin. Hidan had lain on the sacrificial pike, the sting of it numbing his entire body. The virgin sacrifice – the pointless end. The breaking point for the man who lay alone in his bed, cold and hurting. The one who had sacrificed him, the one who had pierced him through his soul, had not even stayed by his side, had offered no explanation. This was it; this was all there was. This was all they gave him.

/_By an edge of the shadow Halta de manna, cinca de manna, horahora ho_

_I'm pulled into darkness Horto prier blos d'ita_

_I gave a scream… Omna magni…_/

His throat was hoarse, his eyes stung. He needed sleep, and it would not come still. He needed a savior, and none would appear. He needed someone by his side, and everyone was gone; everything was dead, within and without.

Hidan was an emotional man, who did not have any expression to show such. Because no one had ever taught him.

Hidan was a sensitive man, who felt everything. He felt pleasure. He felt pain. He felt the touch of another's against his immortal being, others that would eventually slip away. Others that refused to leave.

And insanity recited and repeated these things constantly in his ear.

/_I'm crazy because of the silence… Cripar intari…_/

A failure of recognition, to Hidan, was an unforgivable act. He hated a lack of action. He hated silence, a lack of presence. He hated himself for being like this. He'd hated those of the War, curled up without company, talking to yourself just to hear the noise. And the hatred spawned fear, and the fear spawned insanity.

Emptiness to loneliness, loneliness to cleanliness, cleanliness to Godliness.

And the feeling of being unclean brought Hidan's God away from him.

(And God is empty, just like me.)

/_Aquarion, Aquarion._/

~End Intermission~


	7. Chapter 6

Authoress' Note: Only one more edited chapter to go… ^^; Still don't own the rights…

Hiatus' are relaxing and stressful at the same time…

Chapter 6

Kakuzu was a hypocritical man. And whether he was aware of being such or not, he despised when people told him so. Because the things that made him a hypocrite were the things that he hated the most in others, in life. Because his hypocrisies were the traits shared with Hidan, and this was something he wished not to accept.

Though Kakuzu was not immortal, he was indeed everlasting, vulnerable yet durable. He, like Hidan, refused to die. He had lived for almost an entire century now, and fought to keep his life with all of his being. His need for control applied to all others besides himself. He knew what that made him, how this refuted all of his hatred for Hidan. All of it was unfair, foolish, and pointless. Cruel, to despise a man for something beyond his control, for possessing something that you had to fight to keep.

That was why it was so much easier for Kakuzu to hate Hidan, to treat him like it was his own fault for being the way that he was. It was easier to have that killing intent, to fight with him the way that he did. To treat Hidan like a fool that knew nothing, that was inferior to everything Kakuzu possessed.

It was easier to the man who had lost his original heart years ago, who had forgotten how to care when he was a child, to simply neglect. And Pain had ruined all of these plans, simply by telling him to pretend. By telling him to be something he was not. Now, Kakuzu just wanted it to go back to how it used to be. It was easier to forget that it had ever happened.

And if that was the only solution, so be it then. He had done it once, he could do it again; he was not beyond turning against his own side. Only one thing stood in the way of it this time, that hadn't been there before. But time was money, and Kakuzu had none to waste on trying to figure it out.

The grains of sand were already falling through the hourglass, counting it all down. And that which was left was completely undetermined, that which was coming seen only as approaching. It was all they could see with their blinded eyes, blocked only by themselves from what they didn't want to admit.

* * *

At ten-o-clock in the morning, Kakuzu was awake. He did not even have to look at the clock to know that he had awoken later than he usually did. All it took for him to tell was the light hitting his eyes, beaming in through the window. The other sign was Hidan sitting at the side of his armchair, fiddling with the rope attached to his scythes. He had found it, most likely shortly after waking up. And Hidan usually woke up an hour after Kakuzu. Yet there he was, wide awake, and hair down, freshly washed and dripping, not yet slicked back. In other words, Kakuzu had overslept by at least two hours. A look at the oven clock confirmed it at three.

Cursing, Kakuzu rolled out of his makeshift bed, giving a tired groan. Every inch of him felt overworked and sore, and his body felt like it hadn't had any rest, not even a wink of sleep. Hidan, on the other hand, looked even worse, like he'd been run through the wringer. Kakuzu tried not to look directly at him too often as he got up, stretching himself out, trying to wake himself up, but Hidan's eyes wandered, following him the entire way.

"You slept pretty fuckin' late." He muttered under his breath, continuing to fiddle with his scythe. Kakuzu still gave no response, no sign of recognition. He did not want to have this conversation, did not want to talk with Hidan, with Pein, with anyone. Letting Hidan's comment hang awkwardly in the air, he went to the fridge, searching for whatever was left. There was barely enough for one sandwich, and Hidan's half-eaten dango. Kakuzu pulled it all out, dumping it onto the counter, and threw whatever had gone bad away. Hidan shuffled towards him, leaning across onto the kitchen islet, staring at the other with a slightly mournful glance. "You gonna make me my fuckin' breakfast?"

"I'm busy." growled Kakuzu, spooning what was left of the mayonnaise into the last piece of bread, constructing some sort of open-faced sandwich. Hidan shrank away from him by a tiny bit, quieting again. Finally, with a curious reach, he snatched at the dango, pulling it from its box and nibbling on it meekly. As Kakuzu finished making his own meal, he left the other piece of bread lying there, and what little condiments remained. It took a couple moments of staring at it before Hidan took the hint and began making his own sandwich in Kakuzu's style. He seemed uncomfortable about it, unadjusted to this way of independence, of being unable to depend upon Kakuzu for help.

Better to forget those times had ever happened, Kakuzu reminded himself. Better for things to be the way they used to be. With a stubborn sense of sticking to the idea, Kakuzu began arranging and packing things into his and Hidan's bags, in a fashion of order and systematic control. And of course, Hidan seemed as unstable as ever, as he stared at Kakuzu, scythe in hand, looking ready to pounce. Yet the fact that he didn't was what revealed that Hidan was not following Kakuzu's example of forgetting. He needed too many questions answered, questions Kakuzu was still not going to answer, no matter how much the other man asked. Hidan would just have to learn this lesson the hard way.

"Are we leaving soon?" Hidan eventually abandoned constructing a sandwich, munching only on the rubbery lunch meat from its bag, and biting into the leftover hunk of cheese. He dumped everything else into the garbage, and eyed Kakuzu pleadingly as he continued eating. "'kuzu?" Again, that damn pet name. Kakuzu grit his teeth, trying to ignore it, trying not to let it carry him back to the incidents of last night. "We need to leave by eleven." He instructed coldly. "I would prefer to leave by ten in one hour. Of course, this all depends on whether or not you're able to move your lazy ass."

A small frown suddenly adorned the other man's face, just short of the scowl that was so usual of him. The sides of it twitched further downward, steadily becoming more a look of confusion, at anger over such. Kakuzu was beginning to see this zealot's pattern of hating that which he could give no explanation for. But that did not mean Kakuzu was willing to try and understand it. Again, he was too busy trying not to think back to last night. Back to that look on Hidan's face as he pleaded for answers he could not have, tried his best to understand. And he, as a religious man, hated that which did not dawn some inkling of understanding upon him. So why was that hatred not in his eyes now…?

"What the fuck is up with you?" That voice was too soft to be Hidan's, but just bitter enough to be recognizable. A whining undertone that was characteristic, almost expected of the martyr. There was nothing false about this, not like the trick he'd done earlier (which Kakuzu reminded himself between gritted teeth to forget). This was genuine. This actually was Hidan, in all of his feeling that he always released all at once. And again, it was terribly unlike him, because these emotions he was showing right now were too limited and focused. Confusion engulfed Kakuzu over it; never a good sign. Just as Hidan hated that which he could not comprehend, perplexion caused Kakuzu's anger to boil. A chain reaction, befitting of the sadomasochistic duo, with an advantage for neither of any form.

As Kakuzu resisted in giving an answer, the reaction was plain enough in Hidan. Something tugged at him from within, making him give some sort of impatient whine, to give a strange habitual tug at his scythe, a shake, up, then down. Something about it only irked Kakuzu more. "What?" he asked coldly, his eyes boring into Hidan, turning the tables as he became the one demanding the answers. Hidan was taken aback by the sudden switch. He pulled away slightly, bringing his scythe in front of himself defensively. At this moment, he was refusing to think the worst, refusing to believe that denial that shone in Kakuzu's eyes. He did not understand it, and thus would not allow himself to acknowledge it. To acknowledge it would be like accepting another power; the word of a heathen.

No, that simply, would not do, Hidan's mind told him rushedly, posing itself as logical sense. Never take the word of a heretic. Don't listen to his lies, don't believe those eyes. No, no, no, no –

This mantra was familiar, Hidan realized. He could remember hearing it many times before. And every time, it only seemed an echo of the day the War ended. Did it ever stop, would it ever? No, he could not even remember anything else other than that, other than the screams of the suffering, the temporary drowning out of this insanity with a mere, temporary replacement. A peal of maniacal laughter, a chuckling mockery, screaming cackles. When did the denial stop, if ever?

(No no no no no…)

Hidan was back in his own body, and those eyes still burned into him impatiently. He faltered before coming out of his defensive pose, trying his best to come out of this stupor. Fuck, this wasn't like him. He meekly encouraged some wave of emotion to engulf him, or possibly Jashin-sama himself. For who else could help him besides his God? Nothing else, nonononono, nothing else in the entire world.

So why did he feel this obsessive need to deny everything in Kakuzu's eyes, a need to believe something else? He wanted to tell himself that it was because he would be happy if he did. But to say that would be like saying Jashin-sama was not enough. And if he was ready to put Jashin-sama as second to anything else, he might as well give up this religion of his. Hidan, however, was sure he would die if he did this. His religion was everything to him, because in this material life, he had nothing. He had no strife of War to live by, and so many limitations to the natural cycle of life and death. Death, to society, was a forbidden, regrettable thing, had become something evil and dark.

No, no, Hidan could not survive in a world like that. He could not survive in the world that had always been Kakuzu's territory, a forbidden piece of unknown land to Hidan and his God. And it only perplexed Hidan more that he had this sudden need, this urge to remain in it. Not even those words could really describe it, either. It was more than that it was… it was… a requirement, something that would make this hollow feeling go away. Yes, Hidan had just begun to realize it now; he hadn't had that feeling this entire remainder of the week, hadn't had that strange emptiness in him since the second day, before all this had started. Not until now, when he looked into those cold eyes, that burned like dry ice to the core of his being. The only question now was…

"Why?" The word came out hoarsely, and it seemed to take him a minute to realize he had even said it at all. It was an improper response to the last thing Kakuzu had said, a question answering another question. Yet it was the only thing the zealot seemed currently able to say aloud. Kakuzu glared at him, scoffed at him, mocked his very attempt at life, at speech, at anything. That was what this man did, how he always treated Hidan. And Hidan wanted to know, why. Was it really the wrong thing to ask, when one looked at it the right way? Hidan did not believe so. But he needed more words so to properly ask. "Why the fuck are you doing this? Why the hell have you done ANY of this?" It was the most he could come up with. It sounded like him, and yet it didn't. The voice had too much agony and sadness mixed in with its anger. He stilled his shaking grip on his scythe, tried his best to at least appear calm. It was harder than it sounded, when both Hidan and his religion, his life, depended on finding ways to express how he felt, so he did not have to hold them in, deal with their pain. Hidan was evasive, true, but so was Kakuzu, if the subject in question held no profit for him. Just as he was doing now, as he turned away, seemingly intent upon not answering Hidan's questions. He hadn't done it last night either, Hidan remembered vaguely. Or had last night been a dream? A nightmare? The fading scars on his thigh were his only proof. Shaking, avoiding mentioning that, Hidan pulled Kakuzu by his shoulder, forcing him to face him again. "Why the fuck are you being such an ass about this, about leaving all of a sudden?!"

Now he almost wished hadn't asked, hadn't pushed it. Not now that Kakuzu's rage in his eyes had grown greatly, as his rough hand twisted Hidan's off of his shoulder, pushing the young man roughly away before releasing him. "Because I can't stand another minute of this headache!" he hissed, almost spat, and the words whipped at Hidan, cracking him as he gave a miniscule flinch, a twitch. "And I think you've made yourself enough of a burden now. Stop what you are doing, Hidan, or I swear, I will hurt you more than I ever have before!"

There was a stagnant silence in the air, as Kakuzu quieted, still winded, fuming. The blaze of temper only halted between the two, as Hidan froze, even his breath seeming to still in his throat. The expression on Hidan's face was shaken, wide-eyed, and, Kakuzu would even dare to say, heartbreaking. As he stared into it, he kept his mouth shut, his tongue bit back so that he would say nothing else, would not rip apart the man in front of him, and would not, COULD NOT, remember last night. At this point, yes, Kakuzu was still filled with a rage, but he did not know at whose fault that was. But just as it was easier to forget all of this and cause Hidan the trouble he did, it was easier to pin the blame upon the immortal. It was Hidan's fault that this had happened to him; that he felt like this. Hidan's fault, not his. Only his burden. This was an easier thing to convince himself of – the burden. The word that was echoing between the two of them now, making Hidan have that look on his face. It was time to end the feeling of intimacy, the feeling of obligation. It was time for Kakuzu to truly forget all of this.

Before Kakuzu could turn away as he intended to, the staring contest was ended, and abruptly. Swinging his scythe – his shield out to the side, Hidan took even Kakuzu by surprise, smashing a small decorative vase. His face suddenly twisted and contorted with rage. Kakuzu drew back instead of away, readying himself to use his ninjutsu at any minute, to guard against Hidan. But Hidan's scythe lay still now, buried halfway into the wall, his hands keeping a stiff grip on the rope. "A BURDEN?" he snarled, almost disbelievingly. "A FUCKING BURDEN? IS THAT WHAT THIS WHOLE DAMN WEEKEND WAS TO YOU?!"

"What do you want me to say, Hidan?" Kakuzu said coldly. "That I ENJOYED pampering a brat like you? That I enjoyed all the trouble you put me through?"

"Fff-FUCK YOU!" Hidan tripped over the words, slurring, pulling on the rope to his scythe. His body trembled slightly, putting his aim off a bit, swinging it just above Kakuzu's head. Kakuzu heard the blades slicing into air, into sound, hitting the kitchen cabinet with a solid thud. Hidan was past discussion, Kakuzu did not have to use his acquired 'other sense' to tell that. This was an endless cycle that went nowhere, as Kakuzu's anger would abate, only to flow into Hidan, eventually growing and spreading to both. The usual pattern; just how things used to be.

(_ then why didn't it feel right…?_)

Grabbing the handle, Kakuzu held the scythe steady, preventing it from being used any further. Hidan resisted for a minute or so, yanking so fiercely that Kakuzu could FEEL the welts developing on the other man's hands, the rope burns scratching at them. Finally throwing down the rope, Hidan resorted to his own hands, smashing the lamp. Anger almost fully invoked now, again, Kakuzu acted to prevent Hidan from destroying yet another hotel room. He whisked out the strange, thread-like appendages that snaked from his body, roping Hidan with them, and restraining him. Like a wild animal that had been jolted by a disturbance in its environment, Hidan spun quickly round, yanking roughly at the bondages and jerking Kakuzu himself a few inches forward. "Let me fuckin' go!" he howled, a tortured noise, a sound like he was dying without his freedom to move around. Or perhaps it wasn't the absence of freedom that bothered him so much as the act of being bonded in itself. The pull on his body made Kakuzu wince, feeling how desperate this man was to escape. A part of him wanted to let him loose, just in interest of what he would do. The consequences, however, he was sure would not be favorable. He could, of course, try talking Hidan out of this, what little good THAT ever did. Always worth a try, he supposed, with gritted teeth. That is, if he could even get the right words out to catch Hidan's attention.

"Will you stop bitching and thrashing and HOLD STILL already?" snarled Kakuzu, tightening his tendril's grip. One of Hidan's screams was cut short with a choke. There, that worked. "Are we listening now?" he asked coldly. Hidan shot a trembling glare, lips curled back in a bestial look of anger, a growl. He was listening, barely. Unfortunately, one never fully listens when they do not want to listen. Still, at least he was quiet. Knowing Hidan, however, that would not last long. "We need to get home, and soon. I would prefer if I don't get chewed out by Pain-sama for returning alone."

"Fuck you!" Again, Hidan's classic reply. Kakuzu heaved a sigh, weary of the man's repetitious vocabulary. Responding uncouthly, Hidan spat at Kakuzu. "Let go of me, you fuckin' bastard!" he said, voice quivering. "I don't wanna be fuckin' near you and your ugly face another fuckin' second!"

"Then where are you going to go, Hidan?" droned Kakuzu, already bored with this routine that was once so familiar. It made him feel old, a feeling he did not enjoy, merely because that's what he actually WAS. "We're partners, whether we like it or not. You can't get far from me."

"THEN AT LEAST LET ME DO MY DAMN RITUAL IN PEACE!" bellowed the man, face flushing in his wrath. Kakuzu could hear doors slamming open, people coming out to investigate the noise. "CAN I FUCKIN' DO JUST THAT RIGHT NOW, 'MOM'?!"

"Witty, Hidan," growled Kakuzu. "Did you spend the whole week thinking of that?"

That shut the man up, as he clenched his teeth down onto his lip, shaking, trying to think of something to say in response. Hidan knew that wit was not his forte, as did Kakuzu. Eventually, however, after a minute of consideration, he released his lip, blood pouring down his chin from the crushed flap of skin. "Let me fuckin' go." His voice had gone back to a hush. Kakuzu continued holding onto him tentatively, hesitant to let go, until Hidan screamed out, almost desperately, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE, KAKUZU, I'M FUCKIN' SUFFOCATING LIKE THIS!" The hot blood that dripped down his chin sprayed onto Kakuzu's face, with a thin amount of spittle, and he could feel Hidan thrashing and pulling again. At last, feeling too tired to continue this, he released Hidan from the point where he was restrained, a few inches from the ground. The zealot fell solidly back onto his feet with an unceremonious thud. Stumbling a bit, Hidan sorted his senses back out, his stare glazing over again as he shoved past Kakuzu to grab hold of his scythe again. Neither said anything else to each other, only trying their best to avoid eye contact, to avoid any speech with each other. Once retaking hold of his weapon, Hidan exited quickly, fiddling nervously with the door handle before being able to open it. Kakuzu slammed the door after him, and finally released what he had been holding back – a scream of frustration, while his fist smashed into the table, splintering the wood around the area of impact. With a shaking stance, he braced himself, holding himself up. As he took deep breaths, he could feel the presence of someone approaching closer, could hear them slowly sneaking to his side.

"You're supposed to head back soon." A pause, as if they were mulling over what they had just said. Finally, "_In other words, why the hell did you just chase off your partner_?"

"How long have you been here?" muttered Kakuzu, his fingers combing through his hair, composing his appearance, but hiding some of his face from view. Zetsu looked a bit uncomfortable in response, or at least it appeared that way to Kakuzu, though emotions were not usually a visible thing on the ex-Grass Nin's face. His golden eyes blinked a few times before he answered.

"Pain-sama's had me pop in and out the whole week. He wanted to make sure you did what you were asked. _And for the record, we didn't watch_. We didn't think it was appropriate. _That, and we didn't think it an appealing idea_."

"Shut up!" snarled Kakuzu, swatting at the man, ignoring the glint of anger in his right eye that also held hunger. Instead, he continued bending over onto the table, his fingers raking through his black hair, massaging gently over his scalp. "Just… I don't want to remember that, I don't' want to hear about it. Don't even mention it. I'll get Hidan; I'll drag him back if I need to. Tell Pain we'll be back soon, and I'll be expecting my payoff as soon as I get back."

"But how can you get your money," Zetsu began cautiously, daringly. After a moment's hesitation, his other side finished for him mockingly, "_for something that never happened, you say_?"

As soon as Kakuzu's head snapped to look at the Ex-Grass Nin, Zetsu sunk down into the floor. "I'll deliver the message for you." he murmured respectfully before disappearing. Kakuzu took one last swipe at his head just as it disappeared, missing it by inches. After that, he paced, forcing himself to calm, to think. And yet, he knew it was past the point where that was possible. Just as there was no possible way to REALLY act as if nothing happened with Hidan to the other man's face.

But oh, he would still certainly try…

* * *

The sun was a fading light in the sky, dimmed by the clouds. It was going to rain. It broke over the shadows of memories of the night, which were treated as if they'd never existed. There was a chill running through Hidan's blood, a quiet cold in his body. He was dying, he thought. He was dying an immortal's death. He was dizzy from the cold, from the fatigue, from the blood loss, from the wounds within that healed like they were never there.

The bed had been made, the sheets cleaned. Hidan's hair was still slick and wet from the shower. His skin smelt clean, the texture was soft. The wound on his wrist was healing. He moved where he lay on the dirt, to slick his hair back, but he stopped. He had just cleaned himself, he reminded himself. He did not want to dirty himself again. Not with his blood that no longer seemed a part of only himself. He wanted to feel clean. He wanted to feel safe. He wanted to feel something besides this.

It was too quiet. Hidan gave an edgy glance at his surroundings, getting up and stumbling from the midst of the trees surrounding him. He was not entirely sure where he had run to, only that he had run away until he could see the inn no more, until he tripped over, falling back into the earth, the ground scratching at his milk-white skin. Then, crying to the skies, crying to his God, he had let everything out. He needed acceptance, needed forgiveness. But he could not find it out here, could not find it back there. There was no trace of it in this self-sacrifice. So where to find it…?

Hidan's thoughts were interrupted as he heard a rustling of leaves, a stir of movement. His head snapped to look at the source, to find who had broken the sanctity of his ritual, had intruded upon his circle. Only a wide-eyed man, who shivered at the sight of the blood pouring from the albino's wrist. Hidan stared into his eyes, watched him back away, and saw it in the dilated pupils, saw the inner chorus of his thoughts: "monster".

With a swing of his scythe, an animalistic scream, Hidan killed him, the blood dirtying the man's skin more. Almost in desperation, with little actual thought to what he was doing, Hidan sunk his hands into the pierced skin, through the wounds, letting the other's blood coat his own hands. He smeared the blood over the cuts in his wrists, wanting it to sink in, wanting to integrate with this other man's blood, this clean, sacrificed blood with his. And as soon as he convinced himself he could, a smile of temporary content came over his face. He hugged onto himself, his own blood let out, his body filled with that of the cleansed. This would heal him… this would save him.

And so, the Enlightenment began; the edge he had been driven to.

~End Chapter 6~


	8. Chapter 7

Authoress' Note: Before I forget, I have to thank Junochan and Silverene for helping me out. This chapter would have failed from the beginning if it weren't for their help and suggestions.

Thanks guys! :D *gives out snickerdoodles*

Oh, and as a note, was any one here aware that Dei's only about 5' 4"? XD And Kakuzu is 6' 1"… it's relevant, I swear!

BTW, if anyone wants to know who Elizabeth Bathory is, just ask. Sorry if you don't get the ref, but I had to put it in there… ^^;

Now, without any further ado, back to your scheduled program… to which I own no rights…

Chapter 7

There was no way Kakuzu could be mistaken for a kind or selfless man. One thing that could be said for sure about him was that despite the fact that he had five hearts, none had any significant effect on his emotions. He was a man to whom expressing emotions was as difficult as giving away his precious money. And of course, Kakuzu could hardly be blamed for such. It was how he had been trained as a shinobi of the Waterfall Village. And there was, unfortunately, no way to change that.

Still ingrained into Kakuzu's mind was the price that one must pay if they went against these basic principles. He could never forget it, no, not as long as the scars stayed on his face, his arms, his entire body. Not for the rest of his immortal life. For he was desperate that it would last that long. And only one thing had ruined that for him so far:

Emotion. Feeling. It dug and picked at his scars, writhed beneath his skin. Stared him in the back of his head, screaming to be heard, to be noticed. And that feeling had a face, and that face was Hidan, his emotions seething out and taking over Kakuzu. He hated it, wanted to rip him apart for it, simply because it made him FEEL, made him go mad. Hidan's insanity was infectious. And God, Kakuzu did not want it anymore. How much longer did he have to deny the man before it went away, before he once again felt no more?

He did not want another failure on his conscience. He was not going to let it happen again. No, he would rather die, if anything. That, he would swear on…

* * *

"You KILLED him… our last day, and you KILL someone… "

Words could not express the disbelief in Kakuzu as he stared at his blood-soaked partner, who had left an emotional wreck, and come back, cool as a cucumber, licking the substance from his lips. An animal, Kakuzu thought exasperatedly. This was no man, this was a beast. He had even dragged his kill back with him, like a lion keeping its feast safe to itself.

Hidan was a walking mind fuck, Kakuzu thought to himself, keeping a distance from the zealot. Living inside of the man's head would have been suicide, and Kakuzu hoped to God he would never have to do it. Especially not now, as Hidan attempted to stuff the body into the top shelf of the closet.

"You can't be serious… Hidan, are you an idiot?!" Kakuzu snarled, pulling his face mask up. It had been so long since he'd worn it, it felt stifling now. He glanced, seemingly casually, out the window, checking that no one was watching, or had seen. When he looked back, Hidan had shut the door to the closet, leaving his bloody handprints all over the wood paneling. He stared back, sedately, calm, and Kakuzu stopped for a minute himself, cautiously daring to keep eye contact.

Something had happened in the last half hour, something to change Hidan, and Kakuzu did not know what. He only knew that this Hidan had become unfamiliar and foreign to him, and he was having trouble readjusting. He watched Hidan go towards the door, grab his bag, and then furiously stick his head back into the room. "Are we fucking going or not, Kakuzu?" he growled, his voice returning to that lazy, unstable drawl. Kakuzu gave him one last odd look, and then grabbed his own bags, striding ahead of Hidan. Refusing to actually look at the other man, Kakuzu felt his anger building up again, and finally spoke, looking slightly over his shoulder.

"They're going to find that body, you know very damn well. And after that temper tantrum you threw, I don't think they'll have trouble figuring out who did it. I ask you again, Hidan: are you an idiot?"

"I needed to do my damn ritual, I fuckin' told you." Hidan drawled, bored. Kakuzu heard a gritty, rattling sound, like a plow being dragged through a field. The man was dragging his scythe, letting the blood wipe off in the grass and dirt. "Didn't know what the hell to do with the body. And fuck, who CARES if they know, it's not like they know what we are, or like we'll be fuckin' going back there, right?"

"Again, Hidan, you're logic astounds me." Kakuzu let out the mockery in a hiss. "You do, of course, remember that this vacation was meant to be low profile?"

"You never fuckin' said that!" growled Hidan. "You just said we were on a damn vacation! How the fuck was I supposed to know?!"

Tension. That was the only word Kakuzu could think of to describe this rage, this built-up pressure between the two of them. Tension of some sort, tension that built up in Kakuzu's head, in Hidan's eyes. And Kakuzu could not remember how to relieve it, not when this pressure wouldn't even give him time or room to THINK. Falling back on instinct, Kakuzu whirled round, grabbing Hidan by the front of his jacket. But the moment his fingers came into contact with the fabric, Hidan let out a blood-curdling shriek, a scream, an EXPLOSION of noise and substance and emotion. Kakuzu drew back merely from the shock, feeling all five of his hearts jolt. Hidan snatched at his own coat, gathering the fabric tighter round himself, eyes wide again, his breath coming in desperate pants. After a moment more, Hidan took his hand away from the front of his coat, and held up his scythe. Kakuzu watched him, warily anticipating some other reaction. Finally, after taking in a deep breath, Hidan exhaled, seethingly, "DON'T… fuckin'… TOUCH ME." The instability was clear enough in the man's voice as his pitch rose and fell. Once he was sure Kakuzu was not going to attempt contact again, he moved past him, striding ahead. Kakuzu turned on the spot to follow Hidan with his eyes, watched as Hidan wiped blood from his slicked-back hair, and then massaged it roughly onto the front of his chest, as if trying to execute some form of osmosis with his skin and the blood. Shaking his head, Kakuzu fought down a light feeling of nausea, and followed after the immortal, daring not to question. The only conclusion he could really make of it was that Hidan would not adjust as easily as Kakuzu believed he would.

As Hidan strode, sure to stay ahead of Kakuzu, Kakuzu could hear him mumbling wildly to himself unintelligibly, to the point where Kakuzu was not even entirely sure if Hidan was even speaking in actual words. The only thing that assured Kakuzu of such was the occasional snatches of the words 'heathen', or 'Jashin', sometimes even bits and pieces of a prayer. But what he heard most often was actually a word not familiar to the zealot's vocabulary, a word that actually rather took Kakuzu by surprise: 'unclean'. He had heard 'hypocritical' before, 'sinful', even 'disgusting'. But 'unclean'? There was something too simple about the word for Hidan's taste. There was something suspicious in the way he persisted with the word, over and over. And Kakuzu was not even entirely sure whom he intended to describe with it, strangely enough. Because despite the fact that such words of hatred were usually reserved for Kakuzu, the way he spat it out gave it a feeling more of self-conviction.

But Kakuzu must have been mistaken, he convinced himself. After all, Hidan was not that kind of man.

Or, at least, Kakuzu had never previously believed him to be…

* * *

There was an itch in Hidan's skin, an almost persistent burn, which he refused to dismiss as simply nothing. No, he simply continued to scratch at it, the skin turning red and inflamed. He was not even aware of his own mumbled prayers and pleadings, all of them simply being routine by this point. He was saying them because there was a programmed part of him that did it automatically when he was distressed. If you asked him why, he could not tell you. But then again, Hidan could not really give any reason for what he did anymore. Like why he had dragged back the body of the man he had killed back at the inn.

When it came to that, anyone's guess was as good as his, as to why he had done it. He didn't know why he had drained the body completely of blood, using to slick back his hair, coat his hands, warm his cold body. Why he had even drunken a large amount of it, and still had so much to waste. Eventually, when he could swallow no more, when he had no inch uncovered, he left the remainder to spoil, soaking the earth. And though logic and thought would have said to leave it for the beasts, illogical instinct urged Hidan to take the corpse by its crimson-soaked collar, dragging it along the ground. And there was something gratifying to give proof of this deed to Kakuzu, to show him that this act had indeed happened. Almost a sort of… happiness that came of it, a feeling of… content.

Until Kakuzu touched him again; then the world fell back in on itself. Because while Hidan desired recognition, contact was forbidden, made him feel dirty again. The touch of a heathen dirtied the blood Hidan had so painstakingly cleansed himself with. Hidan had to be… particular with this. Again, he did not know why. There was no specific ritual to Jashinism that stressed this belief. All that was made clear was that the dead were clean of all sin, and thus their blood was as well. And to Hidan, logic too implied that this blood of innocents could indeed have healing properties for his own tainted body, replace his own soiled blood. It could keep him clean, keep him whole.

Elizabeth Bathory would be proud, for insanity to spawn such ideas in a modern age.

And Hidan knew, just as she had, these details were required, these particulars important. The cost he would have to pay without them was unbearable to even think of.

No, Hidan was better off like this, sheltered within himself, within his sacrifice. Hidan was better off being a different person. This time Kakuzu could not - _would_ not – stop him.

That he would make sure of…

* * *

"And the Zombie Twins return! 'Unbeatable team', weren't you? So why such a long vacation, hn?"

"None of your damn business, kid." Kakuzu growled. He glared down at the younger man, a good half of a foot below him. The blue eyes pierced him back, with a stubborn glance that almost seemed to demand attention, refusing to back down. He raised his hand threateningly, open-palmed, the tongue dropping out with a wet, sloshing sound from the mouth on the aforementioned limb. His sarcastic smirk had dropped to a scowl. Damn it all, but he was too much like Hidan sometimes – young, reckless, and down right annoying.

"My arms are working like brand new again." he said daringly, boastingly one might say. The same manner glinted in the eye uncovered by his long, blonde hair, on that sly, cocky curl of the lips. "And I already have some clay prepared. If you're going to talk to me like that, Kakuzu…"

"You're the youngest in the group!" snapped Kakuzu. "I can talk to you any damn way I please, Deidara. And before you go taking a favor for granted, remember who sewed those back on for you."

There it was again, that pouty, childish scowl. Kakuzu couldn't handle another minute of the boy – not that he had tolerance for much else. He was tired, aching, and wanted to do anything but argue right now. Deidara, unfortunately, did not seem to want to give up on the 91-year-old until Hidan came slumping up, his scythe a mess of blood-soaked mud, caked onto the blades. Deidara seemed attracted to the uneasiness and instability the man radiated, like a fly to honey. Though Kakuzu knew this would not end well, he decided to leave it be, rather than get himself involved in the mess. He was gone before Deidara had even uttered a word to Hidan, feeling the Jashinist's semi-mournful gaze follow.

"Oi, Hidan-san – doesn't look like you went along with the 'low-profile' deal. Unless that's seriously your idea of the word, hn?"

Hidan's gaze snapped back to the blonde as he heard him chuckle at his blood-stained presence. "Fuck you!" he snarled, the tiny bit of incitement working him up immediately. "Go fuck yourself, blondie! I know you're into that shit with those mouths of yours!"

Deidara blanched at the comment more from rage than anything else. He knew comments like that should never be taken seriously when coming from an irate Hidan. But that wasn't really the point. He didn't even really protest, instead lunging in, intent upon keeping his pride intact. He reacted quickly, but Hidan was faster, the moment he saw those hands invade his space of security; to make it clearer, he panicked. Seeing Deidara reach for him like that, attempting to make some sort of contact, suddenly seemed a threatening act, though it had never been such before. But Hidan knew, he couldn't let it happen… no, no, no, he WOULDN'T let it happen.

All Deidara saw was the zealot shrinking back from him. As for the retaliation, Deidara FELT it more than he saw it. The scythe may have currently been to blunt to cut his hair, but it swiped it nonetheless, brushing roughly against his scalp, making him wince. The next thing he felt was Hidan shoving him to the ground, into the dirt, but never doing so with his bare hands, instead with his clothed hip, in a back lashed attack as he grabbed onto his scythe again, pulling it back. Taking a deep, quick gasp, eyes wide, Deidara rolled onto his side, tucking in and away, just in time. He could hear steel striking soil and rock, then silence. Cautiously, he looked back, and his nose brushed against the blade, a shiver running through his spine as he looked at his own reflection, dirty and distorted. Hidan was looking at the ground, panting, his grip tight on his scythe. His back heaved up and down in a hunch with every breath, until finally quieting down calmly, the action stopping as well. Deidara watched his head slowly come back up, looking over everything, beady eyes darting round. Looking up, Deidara saw what Hidan was gaping at – Kisame and Itachi, followed by Tobi. Both were staring at the scene. And though Itachi was stoic about it, Kisame seemed disconcerted, though not as much as the blonde bomber. It took Deidara awhile before he became aware of the gloved hand on his, pulling him up.

"Is sempai alright?"

Deidara jumped, looking to the masked man beside him, then looking away, shoving him to the side. "Fine!" he spat angrily. "I'm fine! Hidan got a lucky shot, that's all. Took me by surprise, hn…"

"Looks more like," Itachi stated quietly, "he almost killed you."

"Not like that's any of your damn business, is it, Uchiha?" growled the younger man. Tossing his ponytail huffily, he turned on his heels, striding off. "Tobi, let's go, hn!"

"Right, Deidara-sempai!" chirped the boy, trilling a little worriedly as he ran after his partner. Hidan stared after them, unblinking. After a minute, he suddenly trembled, spasming, shaking his head roughly. He looked back to Itachi, the only person present in his midst. "I didn't kill him?" he asked hoarsely. Itachi shook his head, eyes sliding closed in a knowledgeable, placating manner.

"You missed." He informed quietly, his deep voice making Hidan calm. "Barely, it would seem."

"He touched me. He touched me didn't he, you fuckin' saw it?! He touched me!"

"I would not know. I only just arrived with Kisame. And also, I did not 'see' anything…"

At first, Hidan's crazed mind raced to comprehend what Itachi had just said. Only when those eyes opened again, and Hidan saw the developing milky, unfocused veil over the iris did it occur to him. "Right… shit, right, I fuckin' remember." He muttered, waving his hand in front of the Uchiha's face. "You're fuckin' blind…"

"Not completely." Kisame said, polite, but stern. "Don't do that. It's rude."

"It's alright, Kisame. Let's go now." Itachi said, taking a step forward. Hidan jumped aside as he walked past. He growled at Kisame as he went by, glaring at the Jashinist. Understandably so; Itachi seemed to be one of the few people he respected. But that didn't mean Hidan was going to do the same, and he was not threatened in the least by the shark. He tugged his scythe from the ground, looking over how blunt it was now, and dirty. Looked at his own distorted reflection.

"Blind." He repeated the word again, voice still hoarse and choked, like something was caught in it. "Fuckin' blind as heathen."

'Blind, blind'… the word seemed to echo in his head, like something of key importance. The only thought it brought to Hidan's mind was an image, a pitch black, an abyss. Blind, blind, blind, blind…

"Blind…" the word trailed off one last time, whispered from his lips. Dropping his scythe, he slumped away again, dragging it after him back to his room. Back to someplace that seemed as much of his as his own body seemed right now…

* * *

"90,000,000 yen, all accounted for… a lot of money for such a simple job, Pain."

"Half of that is, of course, for your paid vacation." Pain stated blankly. "Which was, in retrospect, to be shared with Hidan. But of course, I will give no penalty if the sum never reaches him."

"Hm." Kakuzu grunted, shutting the briefcase that was stuffed with bills. "I'll give him some of it. Otherwise he'll ask questions about where it is, and never shut up about not getting any."

"How generous of you." The comment drew a deathly glare from Kakuzu that Pain pacified with his own eternal calm. "Looking out for your partner, are you?"

"I'm looking out for myself." He replied coldly, turning his back. "Nothing is done unless it holds some sort of profit for myself. If by some chance it benefits Hidan as well, then I get a moment's peace."

"How have the recent events affected him?"

Stopping in his tracks, Kakuzu pondered the question for a stand-still moment. If Kakuzu did not know better, he would almost swear there was some kind of cruel amusement in Pain's voice. Finally, decisively, he answered, "He's fine. Nothing different about him at all."

"Interesting. So you've noticed nothing odd?"

"…"

"Then if you feel no heed need be paid, I will give none either. After all, Kakuzu, it seems you and I are in agreement over at least one thing."

Kakuzu chose not to respond to this, exiting the room. He did not even know if Pain was finished speaking. But he didn't feel like hearing anymore.

Kakuzu was, after all, a heartless man, unaffected by others. And as long as he pretended he had always been like that, things remained simple. As simple as the mind of a zealot… as simple as this entire bet had seemed.

But as a man of money, Kakuzu should have known better…

~End Chapter 7~


	9. Chapter 8

Authoress' Note: And the crazy train rides again (_wheeee~_)

I DID IT. I DID IT. I FUCKIN' FINISHED THIS CHAPTER!

:D!!!

A couple notes before we start. One, after looking in the Japanese data books, I have found that it is indeed spelt P-A-I-N.

… as ridiculous as that looks to me, it will be the new way for the name to be spelt here! And also, there might be some mentions of the REAL body (AKA Nagato), which may be spoilers if you have NOT kept up-to-date with Shippuden.

And before anyone says anything, NO, this WILL NOT become an ItaHi fic. Never. I swear to God, shoot me if it does.

… you'll understand in a couple of pages ^^;

(BTW, the switching between names for Nagato/Pain? I did it on purpose, do not worry :D )

Chapter 8

There was something amiss here. Nagato could feel it in the way his organization interacted. Hesitance, faltering, chilling; something was amiss indeed. It was an unexpected turn of events, and to Nagato, that was nothing short of unacceptable.

Konan could feel it; Itachi could feel it; the intuition of a God was never wrong. Something had gone wrong with the immortals. Again, an unexpected consequence; unacceptable. And the fact that Kakuzu was affected as well only made this situation more dire and difficult. Not even Konan seemed to have an inkling of a solution to this. So from the highest tower in the Rain Village, he pondered- he observed.

And he had no choice but to admit to himself – he could have never foreseen this particular snag in his long, weaved build of his plans.

It was not Hidan's reaction that he minded, as disturbing as that may be. The late-night rituals, the stench of the dried blood that flaked off of his skin. The solitude did ring a tune of foreboding, true. He would not emerge from his room, except to grab a new sacrifice. This too was even getting troublesome, as the list of victims grew, arousing attention from the neighboring Villages. Only Pain's benevolence kept them at rest, but even Nagato was unsure how long he could make that last.

Even more troubling than this, however, was Kakuzu's silence and apathy. The fact that he only came out for missions now was not particularly suspicious on its own. And even though Kakuzu had never shown any particular emotion towards Hidan, that did not make the current situation any easier. Because the fact was, Kakuzu no longer showed merely hatred toward the zealot. That would have been tolerable. Rather, though, he showed an emotion odd to even him –

- Neglect.

And the neglect seemed to fuel Hidan, and this fueled anger was only vented in these late-night rituals. When together, they stayed feet away from each other. And eventually, Hidan just began to skirt from contact with anyone. And eventually still, he only seemed to collapse into himself.

Nagato felt no regret for the immortal in his weak, emaciated state. He understood pain as just another part of his ultimately perfect world. It would one day lead Hidan from the side of his false idol, and into the arms of a true God – into the arms of Pain.

And yet, he could not help but feel cautiously… anxious. Because this did not bode well for his organization, crumbling with the fall of its immortals. If they fell, who would stand but a God?

Unsure of what to do, Nagato watched. With no motive or command, Pain waited.

* * *

"He hasn't come out in days, and I don't hear anything. I think the damned idiot passed out in there, hn."

With an apathetic, calm expression, Kakuzu continued to remain focused on his breakfast-serving of rations. He ignored Deidara, as the blonde looked back and forth between Kakuzu and the door Hidan had locked himself behind, façade a confused mix between amusement, and some sort of subconscious concern. When he saw that Kakuzu would give no reaction, he sighed in boredom and continued. "Someone should probably check on him." he said, drawing out 'probably' in a mockingly wistful sigh. "You know, just to check. Any volunteers? I nominate Tobi when he gets back, hn."

"_Go in there your damn self, suicidal brat_." Zetsu growled lowly, before adding semi-politely, "This isn't a game, Deidara. Leader-sama agrees, this is very… serious." he finished questioningly, as if unsure what word would best portray what he wanted to say. Deidara scoffed at him in reply.

"As does _Uchiha_ over here." Deidara retorted smartly, with a sneer, gesturing to Itachi walking up slowly. "Anything he takes seriously is a joke to me. And you – Leader-sama gives you free food! The only people I can take seriously aren't here right now. Now, if DANNA was still around for instance…"

"Well, he isn't." Kakuzu said icily, stiffly drinking a bitter cup of cheap tea with a wince. He was perfectly aware that he had caught the attention of most of the members, especially Zetsu. He continued anyways. "People die here, partners leave. I've seen it for 91 years now, Deidara-chan. I suggest you get used to it."

Silence filled the room as Kakuzu unfolded a newspaper. He expected Zetsu to reply first. Instead, being the gutsier one of them all, Deidara spoke again; "Fun little ray of morning sunshine there, aren't you, hn?" he grumbled. Kakuzu shot a glare, and then snapped his paper sharply, straightening the pages out. He heard a chair skid out from the spot beside him at the table, and looked up to see Itachi seating himself slowly, putting down a plate of rations he had made quietly. He was apathetic as well, apparently content to drown out his fellow member's conversation with whatever thoughts they were that went through his head. Picking a new target, Deidara moved to him, crossing his arms. "What's wrong, Uchiha?" he said provokingly, head tilted forward, and body posed cockily. "Mute too, now, are you? Why not join in our little team-bonding conversation, before Kisame-san comes and gets mad at us for being rude about your useless eyes?"

"I find nothing worthwhile about it." Replied Itachi quietly, taking a small bite of his breakfast. "You seem to be carrying the conversation on fine without me. Or, if anything, Kakuzu rather seemed to wrap it up quite conclusively."

Deidara quieted then, for no other reason than because there was not much else to say to that. The rest of the Akatsuki looked away, back to whatever they had been doing, attention no longer taken by the loud-mouthed blonde. After a moment's rest, however, it was deterred again by the very sudden and loud entrance that was a blood-soaked Hidan. The door he had locked himself behind swung open, smashing into the wall with a very solid crack. The air quivered for a second in anticipation, as all quickly looked to him, seemingly expecting the worst. Hidan himself had frozen, like a deer that had been spotted by a hunter. His eyes darted back and forth, scanning the room, and never resting on any of them, and finally settling around Itachi's area. He was blinking rapidly, the blood trickling from the corners of his eyes. Finally, in a voice that sounded as choked in blood as his own pale body was, he directed a greeting more to space than anyone else, muttering, "Good morning." Then, staggering over, he collapsed into the chair farthest from everyone else. No one really said anything, too tense really to acknowledge him without risk of harsh retribution. Even Deidara was smart enough at first to keep his mouth shut, keeping Hidan's attention away from himself. Eventually, however, his impulsive daring got the best of him, and he acted indirectly.

"Well, you're his partner." he said below his breath to Kakuzu, shaking his head in the other's direction. "Aren't you going to say something to him?"

"Why don't you?" hissed Kakuzu, avoiding looking at the man. He was just sitting there, head bowed, not even eating. "I'll bet you anything you have more of a chance getting through to him than I do."

"_I'll double that_." Zetsu spoke up, in a darkly humored, overhearing Kakuzu and Deidara's conversation. Hidan's head snapped up to look at him, and Kakuzu could see Deidara wince slightly. He obviously felt Hidan would have been best left out of this; and apparently, he was not as much of an idiot as he seemed sometimes with his hot-headed actions. He glared at Zetsu, but said nothing. Zetsu looked a little too riled, excited by the scent of fresh blood and warm flesh. After a minute, Hidan spoke up, looking only at Zetsu.

"Double what? Double fuckin' what? What the fuck are you talking about?" His voice was loud, pitch inconsistent, like he was deaf and could not control it. He turned to Kakuzu at first, and Kakuzu held his breath as he stopped for only one second, before continuing on. He stopped again at Itachi, getting a strange glint in his eye, like that was the only person he recognized. With a hoarse voice he spoke again, and Kakuzu cold swear he felt a drop in his gut, as the zealot sounded out the words carefully to Itachi.

"What the hell happened to everyone else?"

Itachi paused for a minute, not saying anything. Kakuzu watched Hidan stare at him expectantly, watched the blind man do his best and keep a calm face. It seemed that Hidan was blind to all else except for the man that he was watching so intently now. It was a fairly strange and unexpected symptom of Hidan's strange insanity. Kakuzu's only question was, why Itachi…?

Strangely enough, Kakuzu felt somewhat… affected by it. He had his mind on a word he did not want to use for the situation, but he couldn't help it. He was HURT by it.

And of course, he was angry.

Itachi spoke at last, disturbing Kakuzu's inner monologue. Applaudingly, there was not a falter in his voice as he played along. "I'm sure they're all already out on missions." The Uchiha spoke with a sedately calm voice that could fool anyone. "You and Kakuzu have one today, do you not?"

"Itachi." Kakuzu warned the young man, speaking his name seethingly. As upset as he was by this whole turn of events, he did not want to be pulled into it at any cost. He was sure there was a reason Hidan had been ignoring him, and until now, he had been happy not knowing it. Perhaps it was better to stay that way, instead of pondering over this newest development. Of course, he was also certain that the reason Itachi seemed to think otherwise was because of Pain' demand to know what was wrong with the zealot. The sooner someone figured that out, the sooner it would be off of everyone's backs. But this did not mean Kakuzu felt like being cooperative about it.

Itachi did not look at Hidan, nor Kakuzu, only sat there staring ahead, contemplative. Hidan watched him, as if expecting more from the young man. When receiving no further comments, he spoke again. "Can't remember." He mumbled, picking at his nails, scraping blood out from under them in flaked pieces, dried and dark. "I think… Pain might've said somethin'. Yeah, I think he said somethin'…"

He thought over this, perplexed, and continued to pick. Itachi looked to him with his blind stare, watching him mutter incomprehensibly to himself. After a minute of bearing through this, Kakuzu brought his hands down onto the table. "Enough, Itachi." Kakuzu growled, and Itachi turned his head away from Hidan, but looked ahead stubbornly, not meeting eyes with the elder man. Kakuzu ignored this obvious act of disregard, and continued. "He's obviously not going to budge on this. You might as well be talking to the damn wall."

"And what about your mission?" Itachi said stoically, still not looking to him. Both he and Kakuzu ignored Hidan as the zealot began looking around wildly, trying to get a look at whom Itachi was talking to. It would have been terribly amusing were it not for the fact that Hidan had that wild, crazed look in his eyes, like he had lost even himself. "It must be done. How are you and Hidan supposed to complete it when he's in this state?"

"Then I'll do the damn thing myself." Kakuzu replied, annoyance growing. "It's just a small bounty. I'll manage."

"And if your partner's condition persists? What then?"

This time it was Kakuzu that turned from Itachi as he got up from the table, grabbing his plate and setting it down in the stone sink. "He's not your damn partner. There's no need for you to worry." He walked away, moving past Hidan on his way to the door. He was so close, he could feel the fabric being displaced, pulling against his skin as it brushed against Hidan. He could even feel a flinch in Hidan's body, a small, jerking response to the 'invisible' things he could not see, teasing at his skin. Kakuzu paused for only a minute, waiting for some other kind of reaction from Hidan, before continuing on. "Like I said, I'll manage."

As Kakuzu left the base, a sudden frozen interest lifted from the rest of Akatsuki members as they disintegrated, moving away for assorted reasons and excuses, feeling there was no longer any reason to linger. Finally, only Itachi and Hidan were left. Itachi let out a sort of sigh, almost in sympathy. Hidan sat completely still, frozen over, for a minute more before getting up suddenly and going back to his room. Itachi sat still as well, but eventually got up, slowly walking towards the door.

Itachi's concern was inexplicable; but the feeling of what was going to happen was unmistakable. Something was amiss indeed...

* * *

This mission almost seemed to be pure stress relief for Kakuzu; no real limits, no huge specifications. 'Bring back the head, get the gold' – and do whatever he pleased with the leftovers. It was with pleasure that Kakuzu sliced into him, binding his body so he could not escape, sewing together his lips so he could not scream and call for attention. Of course, Kakuzu extracted the heart first after awhile, before the beating ceased, making it useless to the man. But it was only after pulling the fist-sized muscle out that Kakuzu remembered he didn't even need it. And so, with a bored and morbid curiosity, he cut into it, pulling at the valves and flaps, letting the blood seep from it, squeezing it out like a pump. The thick liquid dripped out onto his hands, from crushed cardiovascular tissue. What a complicated, yet fragile organ. It no longer seemed as important as it lay dead in Kakuzu thick grip.

Just like that, it was the end of this man, too inconsequential for Kakuzu to remember his name, yet important enough for Kakuzu to require a final look at him before he left.

With a kunai, Kakuzu hacked at the neck, making sure not to make a wrong swing and cut the face. It would have gone a lot faster, he was forced to admit, if Hidan were there. The scythe especially would have come in handy. But it was useless – and pathetic – for Kakuzu to waste his time dwelling on it. He instead set his mind on pushing the kunai through the part of the spinal cord that held the head to the body. Once finally getting through, he pulled the thing up by the hair, looking over it. He was a dirty-blonde, with cropped lockes, stained in a spray of blood, his eyes open wide in fear, and his mouth ripped open in a permanent scream, lacerations dripping from the stitches broken in the process. Kakuzu, strange as it seemed, felt rather like he was going to be sick. There was something in the way those eyes seemed like they were watching him, with a dead, haunted glance. Like that blind stare that Hidan gave him, if only for a minute. Like that way Hidan stared, dead to the world, from the mattress and soiled sheets of their hotel room.

Able to eventually bear no more, Kakuzu closed the lids of the eyes with his open palm, in a style of respect shown at a funeral, and then re-stitched the mouth shut. The bleeding had stopped now, due to the very sudden lack of blood flow, to put it nicely. Kakuzu took one last look over the thing before finally getting up, satisfied that this would be enough, and walking away with the head held tight in his grip, dangling by the fibers of hair. Kakuzu rather preferred this, not having to listen to a 'dead' man bitch him out. Hidan luckily had never gotten in a state such as THIS, much to Kakuzu's pleasure. But Kakuzu did not doubt that there would be, indeed a first time for everything. Kakuzu, of course, would have to be the one to endure the whole mess, and the very though of doing such made him want to throttle the immortal. Yet he would still prefer to trade this quiet Hidan that was back at the base for the old, boisterous one. That somehow seemed more… reassuring, to have that Hidan around. Though Kakuzu rightfully could not explain what was so relieving about a loud-mouthed bigot threatening to kill you every hour of the day. It just – WAS, plain and simple. It just was.

The walk both to the bounty station and back to the base station was a quiet one. True, yes, Kakuzu usually complained about the fact that the noise was so loud that he couldn't even think. But this silence only made it feel like something vital was missing, something irreplaceable. It was after a minute of thinking about this that Kakuzu realized – this was the first mission he'd been alone on in years. Ever since Hidan joined the Akatsuki, the man had always been at his side, eager to do every mission. This was the first time he imposed his opinion as otherwise. Needless to say, it was an odd experience. Hidan seemed to have created an attached space with his presence, one that was difficult to fill in. It was sickening how much of an impact this made on Kakuzu's routine. If he knew a way to fix it, he would have done it in a heartbeat. But, as such, there was no such thought as to how this could be done. So, he was just left lost on it the entire way.

Kakuzu came back to the base, back bent over in fatigue and worry. He honestly did not feel like reporting to Pain at the moment. He actually didn't feel like doing much other than collapsing on the springy, scratchy mattress that served as his bed between missions. He wanted to fall asleep and forget today had ever happened. He wanted to stay asleep until things started making sense again, going somewhat back to normal.

And right now, he just wanted to make it back to his room without some sort of encounter with Hidan that would result in his patience flying out the window. That - that would be bliss.

Also, it would appear to be impossible. Hidan was already pacing up and down the hallway leading to Kakuzu's door, for some God-forsaken reason that Kakuzu did not want to know. He was muttering to himself, blind still to Kakuzu's presence, staring at the zealot with an impatient look that just generally said 'you have GOT to be kidding me'. Kakuzu looked around a bit to see if Itachi was there, lurking in a corner, playing babysitter to the crazed Jashinist. It seemed, though, that Itachi had already left for his and Kisame's mission, leaving Hidan free to run rampant in the base. It figured - the one time Kakuzu could have used the Uchiha's help.

After Hidan made several more circles in the hallways, Kakuzu's feet were beginning to feel sore. He needed to rest. He finally decided it was not worth standing around just to avoid the man. If Hidan was going to play 'blind man', Kakuzu would do the same. Why stress about it? It wasn't like Hidan would care - or like Kakuzu cared how Hidan felt about it. He just wanted to get to his damn room, that was all. Apparently, his mistake had been in hoping that wasn't too much to ask.

They were both facing each other, walking forward with different goals in mind. The hall was narrow, restricting movement greatly for the both of them. Kakuzu could see Hidan's body swaying slightly back and forth, feet shuffling in a restrained zigzag pattern. Kakuzu tried his best not to look directly at him, didn't notice that the other was slowing, that he was sweating bullets with every step closer. He only noticed when they were face-to-face, inches from the door, and Kakuzu, in his bitterness, gave a roughly purposeful shove. And again, there was that explosion of substance and sound, as Hidan pushed Kakuzu away quickly, screaming out at him again, pleading with shrieks that the other man not touch him. Kakuzu simply recoiled from the other at first, taken aback like before, and unsure of how to react. But once it became completely obvious, by Hidan's cursing-out of Kakuzu, that he was full acknowledging him suddenly, he let out an angry snarl of realization, grabbing onto Hidan and jerking him forward, bringing him so close that their noses were almost touching. Quieting abruptly, Hidan and the air around him seemed to quiver nervously as Kakuzu glared, not yet saying a word. Finally, after a minute more, Kakuzu shoved him against a wall, holding him there as he opened the door, teeth gritting against each other. He threw the door open, slamming it forward into the wall, then threw in the Jashinist. He stormed in afterwards, taking a quick glance to make sure no one else was around the base. Finally, he slammed the door back closed, then quickly turned back to Hidan, pushing out some of his threads, and using them to pick up Hidan, suspending him a foot off of the ground. And again, he stared, debating whether or not he should restrain himself.

He was livid. Hidan could see it in his eyes, in the way that he glared. Kakuzu at least allowed Hidan enough freedom to move his arms in limited movements. He grabbed at his Jashinist pendant, clutching onto it tightly, whispering to himself, his voice rising loud enough occasionally for Kakuzu to hear gasped snatches of prayers and pleadings. Waiting for a minute of this, then realizing he was not going to stop anytime soon, Kakuzu cut in.

"What the hell do you want from me Hidan?!"

Hidan hesitated, no longer speaking, but still softly mouthing out the prayers of ritual. When he received no answer, Kakuzu slammed the man back to the floor, snarling. "What the HELL do you want?!" he said, in a voice that came close to a scream, while Hidan let out a scream of distress. Hidan began pulling at the threads instead, trying to get Kakuzu off of him. Leering in close, Kakuzu glowered, thinking as carefully as he could over this. "Enough games, Hidan." He growled, bringing his hands to pin down Hidan's shoulders. "I'm sick of it. What the hell are you trying to do?!"

"WILL YOU STOP FUCKIN' TOUCHING ME?!" Hidan shrieked in response, scratching at Kakuzu's arms, wide-eyed, and panting heavily. "F-FUCKIN' SONNUVABITCH – HEATHEN – F-FUCKIN' UNCLEAN!"

There was that damn word again, Kakuzu noted: 'unclean'. Spat out of his mouth like it was some disgusting plague, entering him through his senses. "Will you shut up?" hissed Kakuzu, wanting to hear it no more. "I'm sick of this, Hidan! Ever since that damn trip…"

"SHUT UP?" bellowed HIdan, eyes going wide, brows twisting and contorting into wild rage. "YOU FUCKIN' SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP! EVER SINCE THAT DAMN TRIP – F-FUCK YOU! FUCKIN' LET GO, FILTHY, UNCLEAN, FUCKIN'-!"

Putting as much force into the blow as he could, Kakuzu backhanded Hidan clear across the face. Hidan jolted, flinching slightly. He looked up again at Kakuzu, quivering, dried blood flaking off more, broken away by the blow. "Fuck." Hidan said hoarsely, the word sounding more like some knee-jerk reaction as he seemed to come out of a stupor. "FUCK." he repeated, voice cracking and trembling. Kakuzu narrowed his eyes, speaking coldly.

"What do you want from me? Are you purposefully trying to do this, you little bastard?"

"Do what? Do fuckin' what?" Hidan barked, then letting out a small, unstable laugh, his voice emanating sarcasm. "What, you think I'm trying to fuckin' spite you, or some shit like that? Fuck, 'kuzu! Why would I fuckin' do that?"

"Don't call me that!" he snarled, jostling Hidan. Hidan just let out another one of those short, crazed peals of laughter.

"Why? Does it make you upset, 'kuzu? Remember when I fuckin' called you that? At the fuckin' inn? Remember, 'kuzu, you FUCKIN' HARD-ASSED BASTARD?!"

Another backhanded blow. This time, Hidan's head recoiled as well, going back with it. Blood rose to the surface of his skin in a flush, a blush, as he laid under Kakuzu. Another laugh, this time longer, choked. "What the hell was that fuckin' about, Kakuzu? 'kuzu? You stopped fuckin' looking at me after that. I thought we were partners? Aren't we supposed to be fuckin' working together? Fuckin' hell, you gonna SAY SOMETHING, ASSHOLE?!"

"What do you want me to say, Hidan?" Kakuzu shot back. "What are you asking me for now, idiot?!"

"I WANT FUCKIN' ANSWERS, SHITHEAD!" Hidan screamed, keeping cocky eye contact with Kakuzu. Kakuzu glared back, trying to hide the odd, shaking twitch he felt in his shoulder, seeming to move along his stitches. He wanted to slap the zealot so hard his teeth would come knocked close. He wanted to rip his hair from his scalp. He wanted to sew his mouth shut again, sew those damn eyes closed so they would stop burning this hole in his head. But Kakuzu was left unable to do anything. He was too caught off-guard by the tears that began spilling from the corners of the Jashinist's eyes.

At first Kakuzu though - or more so, wanted to believe - that it was a trick of the light. He even almost managed to believe it with every fiber of his being, due to one logical factor of consideration; Hidan did not cry, ever.

Never once had Kakuzu seen a single tear escape the zealot. Not once during a ritual, not in response to even a single, hurtful word. He never wept for his sacrifices, not even on a show of honor, or respect for their contribution to his God. He was not affected by the death of a child, of a mother, of an innocent. And when he spoke about his own past - as rare as that was - the only reaction Kakuzu had ever seen was a maniacal glee, excitement. Hidan was in no way a caring, sympathetic individual; he was a fighter, and an executioner.

But now, there they were, plain as day - tears, falling down his pale skin, stained red as they diluted the caked blood on his face. There was a sob in the back of Hidan's throat, choking him as he held it back. Kakuzu's grip on the zealot faltered, affected by the other's weakness. He wasn't sure what to do, or how to react to the immortal. This was oddly uncharacteristic, strange to see, foreign. Like seeing a God weep; it wasn't natural.

When Hidan saw that Kakuzu was too shocked to refute anything he said, he spoke again, working the words past his quivering lips. "Y-You haven't said a f-f-fuckin' thing about it! Treat me like f-f-fuckin' sh-shit! W-What the hell do YOU want?! W-why the hell did you do it?!"

"Why should I tell you?" he argued, bristling with rage. "Do you honestly think you have a right to know the truth? Or, rather, do you think you can even accept it? Digest it? Handle it?"

"IT'S MY FUCKIN' LIFE! MY FUCKIN' STORY! G-GIVE IT BACK, Y-YOU BASTARD!" Hidan seemed to be imploding in himself, trying to crush the tears back through sheer willpower. "WHAT DID I DO?! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I CAN'T FUCKIN' HANDLE IT?!"

"You've never been able to handle the truth, Hidan!" He hissed venomously, making an extra effort to tighten his grip on the other man, though perhaps subconsciously. That glint in the silver-haired man's eyes created some sort of reaction from within, almost a pain in Kakuzu's core. But it created fear as well, fear of what was going on in this man's mind, his heart. The words slipped from Kakuzu's mouth with no discretion. Some piece of him regretted it, while some other side thought – Hidan needed to know how it felt. "You hide in this ridiculous religion of yours, with no consideration of the world around you!" His voice lowered to a growl of disgust. "And you think you can manage the truth? When already, you're almost about to crack from this small bit of pressure? You're weak and pathetic."

He was going explode. Kakuzu thought it as he watched him, sucking in breaths of air, and choking on them. He didn't even have words anymore now that Kakuzu had brought the 'all-amazing religion of Jashinism' into the argument. That was pushing it too far. Hidan seemed to be struggling to put this atrocity into words befitting of its seriousness. Kakuzu, of course, was not open to listening at the moment, feeling too sick of the man's antics, too hurt by his blindness, and too tired of it all to even voice how he felt. If he could just punish Hidan now, and leave it at that – that would be enough. If he could figure out how this man worked, if he could process simply that…

In the middle of Kakuzu's soliloquos thought process, Hidan decided to take action at last, unable to stand anymore. Jumping at the chance when he saw that Kakuzu could be caught off-guard, he gave a particularly vicious thrust forward, knocking Kakuzu away from him. Kakuzu hit the bedpost, feeling his shoulder numb from the blow. It wasn't too long before Hidan's scythe was at his throat, its rusted edges feeling rough and abrasive against his skin, the scent of blood becoming nauseating to him. The skin broke, and he felt blood dripping down his neck, hot and sticky. The blade on his throat was shaking in Hidan's unsteady grip, ready to decapitate him at any second in the most choppy and brutal manner possible. It was an on-edge moment, filled with frozen anticipation. Kakuzu bit back his tongue again, keeping his rage in check, only because even he was smart enough to not chew out an angry Hidan with a scythe, especially when the man had caught him so heavily aware. He secretly cursed himself out for it in his mind, but said nothing aloud, only staring Hidan stonily in the eye, holding back everything he himself was feeling… as hard as that was.

Once Kakuzu finally shut up, Hidan inhaled deeply, gathering his thoughts to himself, shakily exhaling. He did not lighten up on the blade's pressure, rather preferring to keep his prey cornered. It took a moment before Kakuzu gathered up the nerve to say something. "Well, what NOW Hidan?" he growled. "You have me cornered. Now what do you hope to do with me?"

"Shut up!" the immortal said, the command rumbling low in his throat, yet still having that high-pitched, panicked quality to it. "I'm fuckin' thinking!"

"So once again, you decided to act without a single thought as to what you are doing? How brilliantly fascinating, Hidan. And may I ask what's next in this agenda of yours?"

"I said SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP! I'M FUCKIN' THINKING!"

The man's hands quivered again, the scythe with them. Bur despite the exaggerated movements it was put in, it did not move from Kakuzu's throat. It seemed permanently fixed there, buried only slightly into the man's flesh, yet unwilling to pull out. Kakuzu was beginning to nervously fear that Hidan would indeed kill him, and debated whether or not it was too late to use his Earth Jutsu to shield it. Meanwhile, as he thought, the gears were working in Hidan's head, slowly. "Are you gonna fuckin' tell me now?" he demanded, trying to stay steady. He was swaying on the spot, however, eyes unfocused and dreary, like he was about to pass out. Blood loss, Kakuzu realized, recognizing the symptoms again. Hidan had been driving to extremes as of late, performing an abnormal number of rituals. He wondered briefly how much longer the man could last this time. Last time, it had only been a couple of days. But now, admittedly, he was already holding out MUCH longer than before. The man had developed a tolerance, a strength. It was a little sad to see, Kakuzu would not deny that. But it was a tolerance all the same.

Yet even this fact could not convince Kakuzu that Hidan was strong enough to handle these truths. And yet still, once again, he did not seem to have a choice.

"Fine, Hidan." His reply was mumbled, and quiet. "You have me, yes. I expect you won't let me go until I answer your question, correct?"

Visible swelling was seen in the man, as he seemed to raise himself with irrational pride at his accomplishment. Kakuzu knew that would change any minute. He would have his moment, then that too would fade. Like that week at the inn, it would fade into nonexistence, dug up again only when neither could bear its lingering, evanescent, and unacknowledged presence. Brought up again only now, when neither of them had much other choice left. It broke the moment that urged reply of agreement passed Hidan's lips, inducing Kakuzu to speak about what he had never vowed to mention again. Kakuzu held it back behind pursed lips for a second, eyes closing, and then opening. He was so tired of it all…

The truth was not possible. This was one thing Kakuzu knew for certain. He wouldn't do that to the zealot; he had tried too hard not to. The words that spilt from his lips were barely his, all spoken on synthetic emotion, and whatever else he could think of. "The only reason I would have done something like that," he began coldly, seeing the chilling flinch in Hidan's body, "is if I were being given decent enough incentive for it."

Kakuzu's hand reached into his cloak, and Hidan nearly decapitated him as he jumped to react, his scythe cutting deeper into Kakuzu. Kakuzu winced, taking a rattling breath, feeling blood fill his windpipe, and flowing into his lungs. Trying hard not to pass out from lack of oxygen, Kakuzu pulled out a bag of money, shoving it roughly at Hidan. Hidan fumbled with his scythe, dropping it, and then grabbing the coin purse. Kakuzu folded over, coughing the blood all out before sewing the incision in his throat back closed. Once he came up again for air, Hidan had opened the bag, spilling out gold coins of innumerable value onto the floor, hands shaking as he pooled a pile into his hands. They slipped from between his fingers, clattering back to the floor. Kakuzu continued without even a word of urgency.

"It was a bet." He stated bluntly, voice hoarse and trembling. He coughed more blood from his lungs, swallowing down what he could not get out. The metallic taste made him so incredibly thirsty, like he was going to die of dehydration. "A bet to see how long I could last. And, of course, they wanted to test that by pushing my limits. That's why I did it, Hidan. Not because I found enjoyment in it; because I was promised the only absolute in return."

Still, Hidan said nothing. He was still staring at the gold, transfixed, though not in a way that Kakuzu quite understood. Not with greed, nor with disgust. It was more with disbelief, though that did not seem to have anything to do with the fact that there was such a huge quantity. No, there was a different kind of speculation going on in those light, pale eyes, a different kind of awe. He spoke again at last, holding a single coin, fingering it lightly, softly. "This is it? This all you fuckin' got?" he murmured, keeping eye contact from Kakuzu. Kakuzu tried not to hesitate in his answer.

"That's your part. About a quarter of the entire thing."

"Doesn't look like fuckin' much." He was suspiciously calm as he continued to hold the coin. It was dull, without a single glint of light to reflect on it. It was getting blood-soaked in Hidan's hands, specks of red spreading on the surface. Kakuzu spoke again.

"It's worth more than you think. Not that I expect you to understand the merit. You've never had a real comprehension for that."

Neither of them said anything now, or even seemed to have any words left. Hidan continued to fondle his blood-soaked coin, his offering, his compensation which seemed to cover nothing. Kakuzu watchd him, discomforted, just as lost as he. When at last the silence was too much, Kakuzu got up, heading for the door. He looked back to Hidan once, expecting some form of protest, some demand for him to stay, some complaint about the loneliness. Anything, really. But nothing came. Kakuzu stepped out he door, closing it quietly, waiting for the inevitable. It came out at last, a violent crashing sound, followed by an odd, choked howl of despair. The noise sent a chill up Kakuzu's spine, yet he kept on walking. Itachi was already standing at the end of the hall, his blind stare burning through Kakuzu and to the door. "It wasn't my fault." Kakuzu growled immediately. Itachi didn't reply, and Kakuzu was not sure if he had heard him over Hidan screaming in the other room. It was impossible to tell, as Itachi did not even recognize him with a glance.

It was on odd feeling, Kakuzu realized, being invisible. He could only guess at why Hidan preferred it now over the company of others. And one could only ponder what went through Hidan's mind, the only process through which an answer could be found. Hidan was instead left neglected as no one dared to find out. And now, at the one point when Hidan desired some form of attention, some recognition…

… there he was, with nothing.

There he was with his blood-soaked offering, his abandoned pride, his neglected emotion. He was crying again, this time dripping crimson from his eyes. He was forgotten again, by everyone it seemed.

For a moment, the sands of time halted. For a moment, everything stopped. Because at the moment, the balance was broken. And because of that, there was nothing.

Without a care, Pain watched. But with a concern for his world, Nagato waited. And Kakuzu chose to ignore.

That night was a sleepless one. Hidan stayed awake, putting the coins over the eyes of his sacrifice, carving intricate patterns into his arms, tracing the blood sacrifice over them again. And he wondered what this worth was that he could not comprehend.

After all, he felt too much like he comprehended more than he wanted…

~End Chapter 8~


	10. Chapter 9

Authoress' Note: Aaahhh, I'm still alive…TTuTT…

I love you guys… thank you for still supporting me…

It's been so long since I did an intro of CRAZY. I was happy to let loose in the prelude to chapter 9. I love doing it…

Some of the things mentioned in the intro refer to official data book information, such as the reason why Hidan had joined Akatsuki in the first place, as well as how he gained his immortality.

Enjoy, guys!

Chapter 9

(_Lord Jashin, help me, I think I'm going crazy…_

_Lord Jashin, help me, I think I may be dead…_)

A quiet pulse, a glint of gold, a sheen of blood; flesh, bone, and muscle, soft tissues below stiff, pliable fingers. He could not chase the memory from his mind, could not forget the truth. The truth, the truth, the unholy truth – it spun round painfully in Hidan's mind, echoing over the sound of his God. Like those nights under the knife, on the operating table, the sacrificial altar. The mutterings of the others, the liars, the bastards who did not ureally/u know Jashin-sama, not like Hidan did. He knew him so well that the distance hurt. The distance from the God, at the side of a heathen of greed.

How had it all started? A bet, Hidan recalled, laughing on the inside painfully. A bet, made to jeopardize Hidan's clinging sanity, to destroy him. Everything was put on the line, everything was lost. But Hidan expected no less from a heathen. He only expected more from Kakuzu; eternal Kakuzu, the constant companion, the one that was so much like him. Yes, he had expected more from the one he had joined Akatsuki just to be closer to. He had expected more from the man of hypocrisy, of immortality, of some lingering similarity.

But the truth was in Kakuzu's actions – the worth, the worth, the worth Hidan could not apparently comprehend. The worth in his hand, in his eyes, in his soul. The endless greed, insatiable, ever hungry. Bet it all away for more, bet it all senselessly.

'Bet it away, my heathen soul'…

(_Lord Jashin, help me, I think I'm lost…_

_Lord Jashin, help me…_

… _I think I'm running out of time…_)

~*~

Morning – it broke over the Akatsuki base and its members like a flood, rousing them from where they rested. In the bedrooms, the privacy windows gave no visual other than dank stone walls, cold and chilling. The sunlight glinted on pale skin, as pinkish eyes slowly opened, then squinted closed to the exposure to light; Hidan was awake. And with a dazed distant look, he recalled all of everything, and pondered. So many things, plaguing his mind… what to consider first?

It had been… odd, for Kakuzu to treat Hidan so kindly. True, he had found something suspicious in it. True, he had suspected. But this – a bet? A bet with whom, Hidan asked himself now furiously. Did it really matter? The only important facts were that Kakuzu had sold out his partner for gold; and for some unidentifiable reason it stung like a needle in the vein, and numbed like the drug seeping in.

Quietly, the angered words of last night whispered through the room, in Hidan's ears, inside of his mind. The echoed like so many other voices, like thousand of people watching. Hidan shivered, letting out a despaired moan and covering his ears, curling up in the puddle of his own, filth-stained blood. He needed another sacrifice, it was the only way to make it stop. It was the only way to make it go away.

Lacerations and gashes covered Hidan's body, littered like wounds of war. A throb of internal organs pulsed below some of them, the flesh and muscle pulled away. He touched his trembling hand and delicate fingers over each one, cataloguing every proof of harm in his mind, adding each wound to the memory of all others, physical or otherwise. They all built up like a towering pillar of pain, ready to collapse, or implode upon itself, then erupt out onto everyone else. Each thought, each sin, each hurt – it was all gathered inside, plaguing Hidan's very heart and soul.

And all because of a bet, a stupid little bet. A bet on Hidan's soul…

It was another morning, another day; it was another day to ignore and forget. It was another day, closer to the last. Jashin help them all, Hidan pleaded, getting up, and pitching forward dizzily towards the door. Jashin help them all…

~*~

It was far before the breaking of the dawn that Kakuzu had woken from his sleep. It was that bright light that had cracked his eyes open – it was the silence. It was the absence of the screams that had gone on all through the night, screams of pain, screams of sacrifice. Now, it had stopped, alerting Kakuzu like a siren, jerking him awake. And once he was awake, he knew it – something was wrong.

Bare feet softly hit the cold floor, Kakuzu wearing only his pants, otherwise completely stripped. A glint of bloodshot red reflected in the moonlight, a reflection of his eyes in a dusty, cracked vanity mirror. He started slightly at first, with a sharp intake of breath - he had thought Hidan, perhaps, that he had come to Kakuzu's room, soaked in the blood of his sacrifice. But no, just himself, he thought reassuringly, running a hand along the stitches in his cheeks, watching the faded polish on his nails shine luminously. Just himself.

Padding along the dark hallways, Kakuzu looked around at the closed and locked doors along the hallway. One was ajar, he noted with interest, something rare in the Akatsuki base. Precautions were always taken, as they should in a base filled with S-rank, wanted criminals. Either someone had broken in, or the occupant was not in there. Admittedly, pure human curiosity had Kakuzu wondering which it was. He pushed it further open, narrowed dark eyes scanning over everything. Itachi's room, he noted after a minute, recognizing the smell – metallic and musty, like dried blood covered over with some other earthy scent, like blood-soaked soil. The occupant, however, was missing, his bed sheets pulled up over the mattress, creased like the job had been done hastily. A small glass bottle was on the lumped pillow, its label unreadable in the dark light, the barely-lit room that seemed to even shun the moonlight.

Kakuzu heard a noise in the washroom, a violent retching and coughing. His head snapped up to look towards the door – the bathroom light on. With cautious steps, he walked out and towards the room, hair falling listlessly in front of his face. He pushed it back in annoyance, a rough leathery hand brushing back through the stringy hair, over his scalp. Damn it, this was why he always wore his mask. He was seriously considering getting his hair cut, for convenience's sake. Not the time for that now, however – right now, his curiosity was growing stronger, and he worried about an intruder, though true, they seemed rather sickly, whoever they were. Threads came out in a defensive reaction, just in case, and he pushed the door open suddenly, standing threateningly in the doorway.

The occupant's dark hair was coming out of its ponytail, strands hanging in front of his ivory face. He was not wearing his headband, and was dressed only in his short-sleeved shirt and pants, shivering so violently that his metal necklace clicked repetitively against the stained, ceramic toilet. His head turned quickly to face Kakuzu, red-faded eyes calm, blinded, but weak. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth, and he continued to tremble, wiping it away on his arm, still clutching onto the rim of the toilet. He didn't say a word to acknowledge Kakuzu, and after a hesitant moment, it was Kakuzu that was first to speak.

"Itachi?" He was cautious when he said it, caught slightly off-guard. Itachi was already pushing himself to his feet, calmly bringing down the lid of the toilet, reactions slow. The water inside was stained red, clots of blood floating there murkily, now hidden from view. Barely standing on his feet, after flushing, Itachi began to stumble back to his room, without a word until he was almost there. "The glass bottle." He said calmly. "If you could kindly fetch it from the kitchen, Kakuzu-san… I'll need another dose, it seems."

Kakuzu almost protested, only to realize it was pointless – there would be nothing to gain from it. Taking the long walk down the hallway to the kitchen, he did as he had been told, searching wearily and blindly through the cupboards, until finding the small glass bottle Itachi needed. It was identical to the empty one on his bed – he could only read Itachi's name on it, however, scribbled neatly on the top of the label, above some chicken scratch, on which the only distinguishable writing was the prescription servings per day. With tired strides, he brought the bottle back to Itachi, who was sitting up in his bed again, the lights turned on, a towel wiping over his face, wiping away the blood. He looked up demurely at Kakuzu, and calmly took the bottle, twisting open the cap, and tipping the bottle lightly into his mouth. He grimaced slightly as the liquid passed his lips, but the emotion faded quickly back into his usual expression. "Thank you." he said monotonously, tucking in the covers around his lap. Kakuzu gave an indifferent grunt, turning away. He had just turned off he light, about to leave, when Itachi's voice called out to him again.

"What is it that causes you to care, Kakuzu-san?"

Again, Kakuzu was put off-guard – he hated it. Ignoring the question, Kakuzu silently fumed at Itachi, angered. He hated the way the other man talked like he knew everything, yet revealed none of it. He hated this man's moment of weakness that still showed some unwavering strength; an oxymoronic state, covered in a bed sheet splattered with blood, sitting up and staring at Kakuzu with dark amber eyes – eyes that could shine with a glint of crimson war, yet never held bloodlust. He had turned back around, staring at Itachi, lips pursed, not willing to let go of a single secret. "I had never perceived you as the caring-type individual." Itachi went on quietly, something seeming sedative about his deep voice. Something like home, perhaps anyone else would have said. Not Kakuzu; home did not hold that emotion for him. Not anymore. 'Home' had taken away that ability to care that Itachi was speaking of.

"Again you're speaking complete nonsense." Kakuzu growled, upset by the memories this was bringing up within him. He felt it was easier to make Itachi out to be the fool, rather than to acknowledge how he himself felt. He again began to leave the room, again began to close the door. Again, Itachi was saying nothing, again he was almost out the door. And again, as the crack of light shrank from the door, Itachi finally spoke. It was casual, nonchalant; neither to Kakuzu nor himself. "I talked with Hidan earlier." The way he said it, he seemed to expect that it would not do a single thing.

The shrinking light hesitated – Kakuzu stopped. It was an odd moment, when time seemed to freeze on itself. He stopped; he simply uhad/u to stop, didn't he? He knew Itachi could not see him, or the tiny stream of light. But he could see the other man's face, staring ahead blankly. Like he knew, could feel the resentment that was beginning to full develop inside of the man. He did not even have to give a single detail as to what he and Hidan had been talking about – the fact that they had been talking at all was enough to frustrate him. Not that Kakuzu did not know of Hidan's recognition of the Uchiha – but the whole fact of it was that Hidan had done it all purposefully, as Kakuzu has learnt of last night. It all only added fuel to the blaze. Why the Uchiha, why? What the hell did he do that seemed to make him more qualified to Hidan' recognition?!

… why the hell was he so upset…?

Using every ounce of concentrated rage, Kakuzu slammed the door shut, the other doors in the hallway rattling in their frames. Itachi himself seemed to have no complaint – the same did not seem to be so for the other S-rank criminals occupying the concrete wartime base. Lifestyle, of course, had accustomed them to awake at the drop of a pin, and Kakuzu had just lost his hold on a bomb. The only continuing silence, to Kakuzu's growing vexation and confusion, was that from Hidan's room.

When Kakuzu had stormed halfway to his room was when Deidara chose to burst from his room. He was very obviously not a morning person – nor one to enjoy the late hours prior to midnight. His hair cascaded, halfway fallen from his ponytail and over the older teen's shoulders. He scowled, both of his sky blue eyes exposed now, as he had removed the scope usually covering most of the left side of his face. He was at least apparently able to loosen his grudge enough to let down his guard in his sleep.

"What the hell do you think you're DOING at 11:27 p.m., old man, hnn?!" he snarled, tongue as sharp as ever. Kakuzu stared him down, seeming almost to swell up with the ire inside of him. No, there weren't any more fancy synonyms, no similes or metaphors, no other figure of speech that could describe Kakuzu's feelings – everything, all of it was too clichéd, that the best thing to do now was use the most cliché words and phrases possible – he was pissed, he was LIVID, beet-red with rage, mad as hell. With a heavy backhand, Kakuzu smacked Deidara, tumbling him back into his room, his body swinging back with the door as he clung to it, his head hitting the back wall with a satisfying crack. Reaching his own room Kakuzu slammed his own door shut as well. And of course, it wasn't enough.

Letting out a strangled scream Kakuzu whirled round, crashing the side of his clenched fist into the mirror that had given him pause earlier. The pieces shattered, falling to the floor with a steadily hushing crystal peal. His hand stung, the jagged edges scratching and piercing at his worn, leathery skin. The pain only just barely registered in his mind, the blood trickling down the mirror's backboard, dented and cracked from the blow, but too strong to be broken. He snatched up the stubborn remnant with a grunt, pulling it, nails and all from the simple, shoddy shelf. Crushed crystalline powder and remaining shards rained down on Kakuzu's head as he heaved the piece of furnishing, heaving it into the opposite wall. He wanted to tear down the whole damn base – beginning with his quarters, and ending with Hidan's. His breath was ragged and deep, disturbing the pattern of the dust flying from the stone wall, where the mirror headboard had impacted with it. And at last, though with no reassurance in his mind, Kakuzu stilled, arms hanging low, shoulder bet over. He stared at the damage, stared at the scattered, tiny refractions of moonlight, broken into shards, shook more lightly from his hair. He could move no more. He could do nothing.

What the hell was he doing? The thought crossed his mind with despair. These actions had little more meaning to them than these games he played with Hidan, these 'games' that had started it all. What the hell were they all doing? Destruction, killing- it all had a purpose, but little visible place outside of the bounties. Ever changing, ever varying – inconsistent, so damn inconsistent, out of control, DAMN IT! This game had begun so predictably, so dependably! And now, they were second-guessing everything, second-guessing themselves, guessing and trying, and…

… pointless destruction, Kakuzu thought, feeble, yet angered. Death with no control, control with no motive. Inconsistent vermin, against the flow, thriving in insanity. UNCLEAN – INCONSISTENT. The words flowed together endlessly, irrationally, infuriatingly.

He had become that which he hated most.

~*~

He had been expecting it the moment he opened the door – this strange, sudden silence as if he had gone deaf. A ghostly echo was all he really could hear – yet he didn't know whether it was from consequence or choice. Only one voice really rang out clearly in his head –

" – today, Hidan?"

Blankly, he turned to face Itachi. "Morning." He replied, cautious and uncertain of his words, voice hoarse. The only thing that really stood out to him was the red on the Uchiha's coat – the rest was dull, colored with grays, blacks and whites – monochrome silence. He twitched slightly as the same bright red oozed down the side of his dace in the corner of his eye. Something seemed – blinding about it, horrifying. Like some piece of filth across a clean surface, occupying all attention. Itachi almost seemed to stand by for it patiently, until Hidan's eyes made direct contact with his again. "Mission today, Hidan?" he repeated calmly. Hidan shrugged, a jerk of the shoulders, a noncommittal grunt. The red clouds were too distracting. Itachi gave a polite nod. "I see." He murmured softly, and turned back to his food, and Hidan stood still for a moment longer before moving ahead jerkily and sitting down across from the Uchiha.

Colorful blurs moved across Hidan's eyes, ghosts of images, the echoes moving with them. Yes, Hidan could see them. He never doubted to himself that he could. The problem was that he didn't want to see them, didn't want to acknowledge that they were there. Disgusting, unclean – heathens, spreading their filth. Hidan withdrew a little farther into himself, laying his head down on the table, blocking them out. If he didn't acknowledge them, they weren't there. No, certainly not. And if they weren't there – if they could touch him no more – he was safe.

Breathing deep, breathing heavy, he tried his best to fully inhale the scent of clean blood into his lungs, discern it from the scent of the filth-touched blood within him, leaking out of him, evaporating. But his nose could tell no difference between either – if there was one, it was subtle. Perhaps it was a dry scent, perhaps more wet. Was there a difference? Of course there was, he told himself in disbelief, almost in anger. How could he question that? It just… every bit only seemed to become more infected whenever it touched his skin. That meant nothing, he said in assurance. It only meant he'd been dirtied again. And the extra effort would eventually cleanse him. Eventually…

Blurs again – movement, crackling white noise of echoes. Hidan braced himself as it moved, too quick, too close for comfort, but just as welcomingly ignorant as he wanted them to be. Itachi was the only bond, who doubled as a go-between. Hidan shut his eyes to keep himself blind as he listened to Itachi speak, taking refuge in the calm, the cleanliness of the Uchiha who stood so heavily over guard.

"How does your hand feel, Kakuzu?" The name created a twitch in Hidan, made his eyelids blink back open. He tensed a bit, but remained calm. He could smell, blood, not just in his person. Clean blood, he thought approvingly, delightedly. Perhaps a potential sacrifice. Although he had no idea what such a prospective victim was doing within the Akatuski base, he was nonetheless excited by the opportunity.

"Fine. Not that it's any of your business, Uchiha." Replied Kakuzu coldly. Kakuzu. Shit. Hidan mumbled a string of curses under his breath, spirits dampened. If Kakuzu was there, that hampered any hopes of taking this perfect sacrifice. Hidan preferred to lay, still and silent in the man's presence. Wait. Like the perfect hunter, wait. Wait until this moment passed, wait until that moment came. Wait…

As he continued to mutter and curse under his breath, awareness came steadily of Kakuzu's gaze fixed, with seemingly heavy intent. Again, he flinched, much more noticeably, though of the sacrifice dissipating with discouragement. Those hands were too close, seeming to close in on him. Thoughts of clean, ammonia-scented hands, carrying scalpels as sharp as the tongue of a priest. Hidan wanted to get away from them, skitter away like some beast in the presence of a weapon. Where was his support? Where was his shield, his God? He prayed more fervently, wait, WAIT…

Moving away. Hidan dared not yet open his eyes, even when he heard the man give a disgusted sigh and trudge off, slamming cheap wooden doors behind him. He darted, looking wildly to Itachi for explanation, but the Uchiha was getting up and leaving as well. He only stopped as the immortal gave a small, despairing moan, freezing the Uchiha in his tracks.

Heavy pause. The younger man turned to the other, his ward, blind eye setting on him calmly. "I need to go have a word with Kisame." He said soothingly. "I'll be back soon."

"Where the fuck is he?" Hidan snapped nervously, forgetting all acts, and Itachi took it without a single question, understanding easily whom Hidan was talking about with needing any conformation. "Gone." he replied patiently. "Most likely on his mission. You are safe."

A strange, rough barking noise escaped Hidan. "Safe!" he parroted hollowly. "Fuck! Safe! I'm never fucking safe from that fucking bastard!" To this, Itachi did not reply, and Hidan watched him walk away again, his cleaned skin resting Hidan's eyes away from that constantly harsh red on the coat. Cleanliness, dripping down the side of Hidan's face, fading back into red. Cleanliness. He was getting dizzy, but the sacrifice flooded back into memory. He could no longer feel them, but he needed to find them again. The feeling of being unclean seemed to infect his throat and stomach now, making him empty, and hungry with cravings. He took a bite of the rations, but he spat them back out, finding the taste too dry to his liking. He needed something more. Something richer…

"Jashin-sama?" he seemed to plead, eyes rolling back almost in the back of his skull, up to the ceiling, looking, listening for a sign. Or perhaps he'd already been given one. Perhaps it was a matter of acknowledgement. Hadn't it always been? Acknowledgement, visibility…

Getting up, Hidan stumbled off, again in search of his perfect sacrifice. Perhaps it was closer than he thought… perhaps…

~*~

The sound of each footstep was Itachi's guide, the gentle pulse of chakra in reaction to his surroundings. It was a moderate padding, like some sleek jungle cat. It was a graceful sight, the merciless man, who murdered his Clan – and steps as gentle as a careful animal. But the steps stopped, coming to a quiet still. He would not move, until the Voice spoke up.

"You're taking an odd concern for him, Itachi. It seems useless. If he stays that way, he won't be useful to Akatsuki any longer."

The Voice was muffled, as if from a distance, or in another room. He didn't quite respond, only letting out a hum to show he was not deaf as well as blind. The Voice gave a small, dark chuckle.

"It's because he's like that isn't it? Imagine if Sasuke goes that far…"

No response, expression blank and unreadable. Itachi took another step, stopping as he felt the Voice's chakra, the source, cut off his path. "It'll redeem you no more than he can redeem himself." It continued coolly. It too went silent, and Itachi stopped moving, stopped trying to get away.

"I do not believe you have the right or knowledge to determine what redeems a person." He said calmly. Turning to the left, he walked forward through a different doorway. "… 'Tobi'. Allow a dead man his last condolences."

He took no more than two steps when he buckled, ever so slightly, coughing quickly into his hand. Trembling, he wiped away the blood on his inner sleeve, and continued. Tobi chuckled after him, and Itachi didn't allow it to disturb him. He was headed towards goal; he knew what he needed, and he knew he had a limited amount of time. And he wanted to make the most of it that he could.

If he was to be condemned, he could at least save another in the process.

~*~

Kakuzu's hand stung like a bitch. It shouldn't have hurt this damn much, he thought, in annoyance. There had to be some small piece of glass lodged in there, sewn up with the rest of the wound. A small, tainted piece, ever-constantly bothering; the idea wrought a growl from deep in the man's throat. He was slipping, and these thoughts only made it more obvious. He needed something, damn it, he needed it now, or that last piece of him was going to die, leaving an empty shell. He needed to find it. He needed to see Hidan…

The last thought came a little too sudden, it seemed to Kakuzu – so sudden, in fact, that he himself has to stop in shock, and then snarl out a curse. He wanted, wanted the charade to stop, but he did not need, especially not Hidan. Reliance only begged for betrayal – he had grown too adjusted to the other's presence, developed too much dependence. He was not quite himself, not since that last night. His own touch, his own fingertips began to tingle numbly like they had fallen asleep from disuse, from lack of purpose. They had only come alive so nervously during that confrontation. He had forced that contact, that feel of humanity, that anger, that control – because Hidan was the only one that seemed to ever evoke it in him anymore. Because this ignorance of it was not just affecting Hidan – it was breaking Kakuzu more than he'd ever been broken in any battle. Because that schedule of control had been broken.

What the hell had happened to him…?

Shaking his head as if shaking off a dizzy spell, Kakuzu kept walking. But as he did, he became aware of the sudden appearance of two chakra signatures, and the disappearance of one, quickly. The familiar feel of the other froze him. Hidan. Shit. What the hell was that idiot doing this far from the base in his state?!

Slipping into the cover of the trees, Kakuzu followed the immortal's signature of chakra, rage swelling and falling with him. He needed more answers now; and if it need be, Hidan was going to give them.

~*~

It was an earthy scent, Hidan decided; the smell of clean blood. Earthy, yes, a blood-soaked musk. He was tracking it as carefully as he could, nose twitching as he sniffed at the air for that scent, hoping it would reappear. It danced somewhere always out of range, it seemed, making paths meet, intertwine, break away. That dry feeling still nagged at Hidan's throat, aggravating his dizziness, disorienting. Where was he? Where was all of this taking him?

He stopped, pausing in the brush as he was led off the path. Someone was coming, he could hear them. His perfect sacrifice? No, not quite – a prelude. Something to pick Hidan up. He could smell clean blood, coursing through this person's veins. And with enthusiasm, he pounced.

Hidan had not brought his scythe; he relied instead on his teeth and nails to rip them apart, ravishing deeply in the ripped flesh and flowing veins, splashing himself with the thick liquid, then lapping it up eagerly with his tongue, licking down everything he could.

And suddenly, there was the relief he was looking for – a warmth that eased his throat, stilted the churning in his gut. How delightful – he needed more, he thought wildly, for this certainly would not be enough.

Working from the wound he's already made in his sacrifice's neck, he tore at the skin, ripping it down towards the chest, a fissure opening up between the pectorals, exposing an intricate cavity, an array of organs and muscle tissues. The core looked most appetizing, a dark red, oozing, still weakly pumping. Hidan threw himself at it as best as he could through the bars of it's bone caging, clawing his hand in, under, than back up. He caught hold of it, ripping it up and pulling it through, letting it still in his hand, his trembling hand. This intricate organ, this core of mortality, this taste of life…

With gorging bites, he tore into it excitedly, teeth ripping and shredding. A feast worthy of a God, the ambrosia of human life. Hidan could not help but feel appreciation for this gift as he swallowed it down.

~*~

What could sicken a man who stole hearts, who had lived forever, who had seen it all? It had almost begun to seem that nothing could. Yet this scene before seemed too much to bear. This was another thing entirely, more than it appeared to be. This was more than baseless violence, more than a simplistic, justified murder. This was a sight one only saw in the moonlit dark of a shadowed wood, illumination wrought only by the glint on ivory fangs. His was not human; this was a beast.

Again Kakuzu thought of the last day, after the bet – a thought coming back to him constantly despite his denial to remember. The predatory habits, the skittishness, the primeval rage. Thoughts raced even further, to days of old. To civilizations so ancient that they were not even in Kakuzu's memory. Civilizations before the first shinobi were even born, fueled by instinct and bloodlust. And all in then name of their sacrificiary idols.

As Hidan continued his feast upon the stranger's heart - unlucky bastard – Kakuzu tried to move closer for a better look, a way to not upon these rituals. Curiosity, DAMN IT, curiosity – repetition, insanity. Curiosity had gotten him into this situation, and here it was again, just pulling him in even further. A need to identify the problem, the drive – an inexplicable inability to know why it haunted his mind, like this man's insanity, infectious. He crept a tad bit closer, listening to the disgusting sound, smacking and slopping about, wallowing in the bloody mess. Every once in awhile, a pleased grunt from his throat, muffled by the thick liquid slipping in, dripping down. At ast, developing a fairly safe proximity, Kakuzu managed to absorb all of the violent details, bit by bit. And he was not entirely sure what exactly it was that displeased him so, in everything that he processed.

It was a bit more than just the simple, bestial feasting – there was indeed a process to it. There was a way in which Hidan tore into each chamber of the heart, lapping up whatever it contained, then eating it down like manna from the Heavens. The poking and prodding, the analyzation – he was looking for something, Kakuzu thought, eyes narrowing. Like Kakuzu's dissection before of the useless, wasted heart. Again, there was the repetition, the strangely synchronizing habits. What were they looking for? What were they doing?

There was another obvious method within the madness – the dizzy swaying showed, again, obvious signs of anemia. Hidan's body was going back to animal instincts in order to survive – a strange phenomena seen before in desperate humanity. The blood gave him relief, the flesh gave him strength. Then why not just eat it? Why pick at it so?

Whom was imitating _WHOM_? The question popped up suddenly, and Kakuzu had no answer. Previously, Kakuzu had believed he had been absorbing Hidan's habits of madness. Why? Why was this familiar? Again, the dissection – but no, no, Hidan had never done that before, had not seen the act. Whom was imitating whom? Who was imitating the other, looking for something missing in his life, to keep him alive, stealing the hearts of others…?

It was an imitation of Kakuzu's own behaviours, resorting to crude, baseless violence in place of actual meaning. And the idea outraged Kakuzu. Imitation had turned into mockery, or so it appeared to him. A search for some meaning, or some other… thing.

It had to stop.

Moving quickly from his cover, Kakuzu strode the next few steps to hidan, whose head jerked up to look at him, eyes widening slightly. He didn't scream this time, only pulled what was left of his meal to his chest protectively. He opened his mouth, maybe to give a word of protest, but there wasn't time – Kakuzu grabbed him by the throat, to choke back any words. "What the hell are you doing?" he growled, despite obvious inability to respond. What was he doing now, he thought, semi-bewildered. When had the intention of responding so crossed his mind? What did he want Hidan to do, to say? That one was easier, because it was the question he'd been demanding insistently the entire time – why? What? What did he want, what the hell did he want? He didn't want him to leave, didn't want him to stay, wanted him to live, wanted him to die, wanted to understand, to mimic; had hated, had enjoyed, the sick desire of one night that didn't exist anymore, that Hidan refused to deny…

Hidan was choking, clawing at Kakuzu's hands. Kakuzu pushed him down onto the ground, pinning him down so he would stop, holding his hands above his head. Hidan gasped, breathing again, a shiver running through his spine, the soft tissue he'd held crushed and slipping from his fingers. All five of Kakuzu's hearts were pounding in rage, compelling him to not only extract answers, but exact retribution; Payment for everything he'd been put through.

There was silence between the two, Hidan frozen still beneath the bulk of Kakuzu's body. Tiny, numbing, throbbing pulses in the wrists that Kakuzu held so tightly, racing. Numbed flesh in Kakuzu's chest, halting any more movement. The blood splattered all over Hidan was coating Kakuzu as well, stolen blood intended to replace something missing, the rituals made to get rid of the feeling of being 'unclean' – what made him feel so? These actions? This boy? Kakuzu had to know.

Anger skewed rationality. Was it this immortal heart of his? What was so 'unclean' that he felt a need to copy (MOCK) Kakuzu so? Perhaps that was what he needed to explore first…

"This little charade of yours has already grown old." Kakuzu growled, as he extracted his kunai. Useless words to fill in the silence, to build up the act. "You know everything – you know about the bet, you have your repayment… give this up. What's inside of you is no different than any other human being, as persistent and INCONSISTENT as you yourself may be!"

The knife slid over skin with little trouble, though the blade was not nearly fine enough to so easily cut through the thicker, lower layer of muscle. That took a little extra effort. Hidan's body convulsed at the pain, face contorting into a blend of tortured enjoyment, and fear. Muscle gave way at last, revealing the rib cage, the continuously twitching and beating organs. Kakuzu's fingers wrapped round a rib bone, cracking it ominously as he began to pulls. "As weak and delicate…" he mused darkly, snapping it open, exposing marrow and what was contained within the protective cage. "… and built with the same, pathetic veins of life, thought true, less easily extinguished – like the roach of humanity you are, you little bastard…"

He repeated the previous process, breaking each rib until he had easy access to the heart. The pace that it beat at was quick, fluttering. Kakuzu's hand touched it, wrapping round gently, then squeezing, eliciting a pained scream from Hidan, his face becoming gaunt and white. Eyes glaring, watching. Kakuzu stared at him, searching for more. "… is that why this heart is so 'unclean' Hidan? Because it's the same as anyone else's? Because these 'gifts' from your God make you no better than them, these heathens you hate so?"

The way these words seemed to chill Hidan, leaving him frozen – they were hitting some sort of weakness spot-on. Kakuzu hesitated what he was doing (what was he doing?!), suddenly feeling he had done something wrong. Hidan had been flinching from him, body tensing, shaking, like the exposed organs and muscles. But as soon as those hesitant hands left the wrists, that strong body began to lift, freed hands diving at Kakuzu's face, ripping away the fabric that covered it, a vengeful scream wrought from the primitive throat. A snarl roared from Kakuzu as he felt the angry, red welts rise up along his cheek, a missed blow barely striking. The exposed heart was pounding again, the blood rushing. Kakuzu pinned Hidan, laying atop him, legs straddling hips, watching the flush in Hidan's face. And after a moment, he felt it, the sudden urged reaction, whether it was willing or not.

It was a rising, a desperate push in Hidan's lower regions. It was unclear what stimulus had caused it – the contact, or the younger man's strange reactions to pain. Either way, it only upset Kakuzu all the more, that he udared/u to feel like that. Beyond verbal reprimand, beyond lost questioning, Kakuzu skammed the other man up, then back into the ground, fully intending upon beating the feelings out of him, the memory, make him stop FEELING, make him stop REMINDING Kakuzu, make it stop, make it stop!

"Is this it?!" he growled in frustration, grabbing roughly throught the tented cloth, drawing a moan from Hidan that edged on the realm of a scream. "Is this what you still want from me?!" He let go quickly, watching the surge then calm, back and forth, the consistent pounding. "Stop blaming me for the damn things you feel! You're the damn one who wanted to remember it, you filthy fucking stain, no goddamn better than the rest of these condemned 'heathens'! You're the one who wanted to continue it!"

He stopped. Hidan stopped. There was no more movement, little more noise. Both breathed deep and heavy. Kakuzu's shaking hands were still on Hidan's wrists, thighs trembling on the other's hips. The dead man rotted beside them, his entrails and remains attracting flies, breeding maggots, life passing them by. The sands of time, rushing, spilling out…

Getting back up, Kakuzu anticipated another attack that never came. His rough fingers ran sorely over the flesh wounds on his face. Hidan's ribs had already begun to heal, bone knitting back together into the natural bends, but the heart still pounding against its constraints…

"If you're going to continue this charade," Kakuzu growled, coming to a quiet, beginning to walk away, "then I'll be the one to break it."

(_For your own good, that my heathen soul can only sympathize._)

He left hidan to heal on his own, left memories where they lay…

Left their heathen ways unresolved at the altar…

Left Hidan to only plead for more mercy, the tears beginning to fall again – the foreign tears, blood red from despair. Because there was nothing left to do.

(_Lord Jashin, just relinquish me…_

… _for I cannot redeem myself._)

~End Chapter 9~


End file.
